ode to sleep
by Calloniel
Summary: "In this world I only have one weapon: I know the board, I know the players, and I know how it ends." Fallen through a fabric of reality our heroine finds herself lost in her very own tragedy, warmed by the sun, yet hopelessly enchanted by the moon. [Self-Insert/OC]
1. Chapter 1

Aibu Toki died on January the 4th, 5:49 PM.

She was intelligent, having graduated from her class a semester early with straight A's. She was the type to shelter stray animals and take a homeless man out for lunch. Her parents were well off, with no lack of anything and so she was spoiled, especially considering her only-child status. With multitudes of friends, one would assume that she lived the perfect life.

The girl wouldn't have said otherwise.

That didn't stop her from stepping out into heavy traffic.

They called it a hit and run to save face. In fact, that was what it must have been. Toki would be the last person to be suicidal - she always smiled. She had so many friends. She had nothing to be sad about.

The result of the 'accident' was a broken arm, fractured ribs, severe concussion, lacerations, and severe road burn on her arms, legs, and face. It was survivable. She should have lived. However, she didn't. And nobody could think of any reason why. One minute she had been conscious, carefully transported into the ambulance that had arrived, and the next she was seizing. A few seconds later and she flatlined. All attempts to revive her failed, and the mood in the ambulance was somber. A child, hardly eighteen, dead. Heads bowed.

But then -

A heartbeat.

So fragile, barely there.

Fluttering like a butterfly, a desperate attempt to _live_.

The ambulance continued its mad rush, now desperate to get the girl to the hospital, to stabilize her. They arrived without further incidents and the doctors and nurses set about fixing her up, wrapping all the open wounds and setting her broken arm. The parents had been called and notified and they paced in the waiting room. The grapevine carried the news and it spread. Flowers were sent. Calls of condolences and well wishes made. But the girl remained asleep. It was normal, good, even - if she was sleeping, that meant she was healing.

A week went by.

Then two.

They began to think that she wouldn't wake up.

And that theory would have been correct - Aibu Toki did not wake up.

_But I did_.

* * *

**updated 7/13/15**

_Tokyo Ghoul _© Ishida Sui


	2. Chapter 2

"_The greatest quintessence of a broken man isn't so much that he himself is broken—it's when everything else is breaking all around him, and all he could do is watch._"

N.T.

* * *

"_We're going to keep her here for observation for a few days… We can't find anything abnormal from her CAT scan. The muteness may be from some sort of shock. It could also be what is causing the abnormal behavior, the distance."_

I stared at the hands, tilting them one way and the other. It was slightly awkward with one of my arms being in a cast, but I managed. They were small, but the fingers slim and fragile, nails painted blue black. There was some new pink flesh from the road burn of the accident, but otherwise the skin was unmarred. None of the freckles and moles I was use to. I wiggled my toes experimentally and contemplated the shape that I was now in. The girl was slightly taller than I was - _had been?_ \- but less fit. I would bet that she was the frail type who ate like a bird, if this was how skinny she normally was. Would I adopt her eating habits?

"_It's like she doesn't even recognize us!"_ The feminine voice was a hiss of despair. "_You need to fix this! You need to fix her!"_

"_Please, ma'am…"_

"_Don't you '_ma'am' _me! Don't you dare! You said she was fine. She is most definitely _not _fine!_

"_Unless she talks to us, we can't discern if she is experiencing some form of amnesia from her concussion, which is normal and tends to fade, or if her silence is her choice. I'm sorry, but it takes time."_

The hair… it was an intriguing shade of black, perhaps a very dark brown, a slight sheen of red that I saw clearly when I spread the strands out on my white hospital gown. It was long as well; past my mid-back was my guess. I wouldn't know until I stood. I had always wondered what I would look like with dark hair, a different color from my usual dirt blonde. Even long hair had been something foreign to me. This length was unimaginable, let alone capable of being healthy if I had my own hair. But the strands were soft to the touch and did not appear scraggly or ratted.

"_What if she never talks again? What do we do then?"_ This came from another man, much calmer than the other two speakers.

There were a few stutters for a moment. "_Well, sir, If she continues to refuse speaking then I would suggest therapy. If it persists for longer than a month then I would say it is some sort of social anxiety, which the therapy can help with. Otherwise… there isn't much anybody can do."_

It was difficult to understand people sometimes, especially if they were all talking at once. It wasn't impossible, though. Two people talking at the same time was incredibly difficult to comprehend. It took a bit of focus, translating it in my mind. I wasn't hardwired for Japanese, after all. My theory was that the only reason I understood anything was because of Toki's brain. She had grown up speaking, writing, reading Japanese. That knowledge had stayed behind while her consciousness had fled.

I was surprised, though, as she had a stunning amount of English knowledge as well, enough to hold a decent conversation, ask questions, etc. I hadn't expected it, and it made the translation of words a bit easier. Had she studied it through school? Wasn't that a requirement in Japan?

"_Visiting hours are almost over. I would suggest saying goodbye now. We'll give you a call if there are any updates."_

Footsteps began to fade away, and I looked to the door just as it opened.

Toki's mother was a stunning woman, with traditional Asian features and black hair that framed her face. She was on the short side with delicate standing, as though a breeze could blow her over. She looked incredibly young. My guess would be in her late twenties, but her conservative style of dress seemed to contradict the youthfulness. A sweater and jeans matched with skechers. It made me curious about Toki's wardrobe of choice.

Her father was the visual foil of her mother, however, standing probably about six feet - _180 centimeters -_ with a thick build of muscle and a shock of blonde hair and blue eyes. Next to such a frail woman he seemed even more massive in jeans and a long sleeve. What surprised me was that he appeared English. American? European? I couldn't tell. Perhaps he was the reason Toki knew her English so well.

The woman approached and grasped my hand in a firm grip. No, she was not delicate, if the strength of her fingers and the determined look in her eyes were to say anything. "Don't worry about a thing, baby," she soothed, her other hand stroking my head. "You'll be out of here soon, alright? You just… you just focus on getting better, okay?"

I didn't respond.

The male came up beside her and patted my leg, causing me to shift uncomfortably. He seemed to notice and removed his hand, but still smiled at me with straight white teeth. "We'll come back to visit tomorrow, okay? Don't give the doctors any trouble." He didn't have any discernable accent, his Japanese flawless. But then again, what did I know about what an accent would sound like in Japanese?

They both looked at me with such expectations and I couldn't say a word. My throat felt thick and clogged as I stared at them, as they waited for their daughter to speak to them, to reassure them with words of kindness and a smile. I couldn't do that. I didn't want to.

After a moment of silence where they recognized that I would not respond the mother leaned forward to plant a feather soft kiss on my forehead. The man's smile turned strained and he put his arm around his wife and they left, at least a foot - _30 centimeters_ \- of height difference between them. When the door closed shut with a soft click I used the edge of the bed sheet to wipe at my forehead.

A part of me felt bad, but the rest of me didn't care. The rest of me was numb and cold. They weren't _my_ parents. The thought was like a black vine, entrapping my mind and sinking its thorns into the tissue. Perhaps they were related to this body, but their daughter didn't inhabit it anymore. It was mine now.

I didn't have it in me to be empathetic, though I could be. I could imagine all too well what they were going through, what they must be feeling, how it hurts.

I was preoccupied, however. It was so disconcerting - who was I? It was headache inducing, separating the pieces of me and the pieces that remained of Toki. It was like trying to build a wall of sand. As I fortified one section the other crumbled, letting out _her _memories and _her _thoughts and it was disgusting.

I didn't want this.

All I wanted was to _live_. To stay alive.

Toki had wanted to die.

But I didn't.

I fought _so hard_. So, so hard.

And I hated her, the girl who used to be here, in this body. I hated her with everything I had, because she got what she wanted. Did I get what I wanted?

I wasn't even sure anymore. Who I was, who I was suppose to be.

It was so cold. It was supposed to be hot. Heat, life, warmth, where was it? All I felt was this block of ice sitting on my chest, numbing my body until I felt… nothing. Living. Was this my price for living?

I pressed a hand to my chest as though I could feel it resting there, infecting me with its shivering mass, piercing my lungs and flooding me with nothingness. Was this living?

I was warm, wasn't I? I used to be.

I used to be.

I had always been imaginative, the creative child of the family. I wasn't, however, naive. This wasn't a dream, nor a vision. I could feel the ache of the broken bone and the sting of the torn skin and muscle, as well as the itchiness of the sheets against my legs in contrast with the soft hospital gown.

I slid lower into the bed, ribs aching with the motion, staring up at the ceiling, counting the tiles and naming the cracks. How did I get here? I didn't know. I had been _so scared_. The darkness was all encompassing and suffocating, no better than the fire -

_firescreamingfallingscreamingpainithurtshurtshurts_

I rolled over, careful of my broken arm, tugging my blanket up and over my head. When a nurse came with my dinner I didn't move. When she pressed I continued to ignore her. I wondered if they would force feed me. But the nurse only sighed and left. I focused on the sky, barely visible outside of the window, and wondered what phase the moon was in.

I wondered how long my arm would take to heal.

I wondered how Toki's parents met.

I wondered why I was in Japan rather than back home in the States.

I wondered who had blown the plane up - No I didn't.

I wondered about everything else. A tedious distraction. And for a while, it worked. Until I fell asleep, and then the dreams started again.

* * *

I found him when I was wandering the hospital three days later.

I would imagine that I wasn't supposed to be in the room, despite it being unlocked. The boy beneath the oxygen mask seemed terribly hurt, possibly only just out of surgery. All sorts of machines beeped and murmured at me, a polite reminder that he was alive. He was probably on hourly check ups, I reasoned, as I looked at the charts by the foot of his bed.

He was in a single room, unlike the one I was staying at. There were two other people in my room, both female, both ridiculously _nosey_. Both inquiring after my muteness, curious as to my injuries. 'Why are you here? What did you do?' Each word had made me tremble and slither beneath my covers, hands shakily covering my ears.

The chart clattered slightly as I set it back into place. I couldn't understand half of it anyway. The boy was cute in an awkward, bookish sort of way. There was a much handsomer lad in the room down the hall from her named Ryo. He had fallen from the roof of his house when he was trying to repair a leak. Ryo was a bit loud, however, and had quickly become an annoyance when he had realized it was a one sided conversation.

I leaned over him, peering at his face curiously, careful not to bump him with my cast, which rested in a sling. I blamed the terrifying lack of feeling in my chest for my uncaring perusal of the injured boy. There was nothing else to do in this damn place, as I had quickly found out. The nurses did not like me and provided terrible company. My roommates were atrocious. There was no reading material that captured my interest. All that was left to do was wander the halls and people-watch. That is, when I was _allowed_ to wander the halls.

At the time, I had no idea who he was. Like I said, the chart had told me nothing. Maybe I would have gotten a clue and gotten the hell out of dodge. My situation was shit enough as it was, I didn't need man-eaters as the cherry on top. As it was, when his exhausted panda eyes trembled open, I wanted to scream. Instead I choked on the sound as I had choked on every other word I tried to speak.

One eye was a terrible blood red. Instead of white the sclera was a midnight black. Red veins spread through the left side of his face, like some sort of infection.

I jerked backwards, stumbling on my feet and crashing to the ground on my butt. My ribs screamed in protest and my arm swung uselessly in its sling. The air escaped my lips in a gasp and I scrambled out of the room, letting the door swing shut hard behind me. I forced myself to walk once in the hall, to not shriek when someone bumped my shoulder, to not burst into tears when I crawled back into my bed and threw the covers over my head.

My roommates squawked indignantly, as I had apparently interrupted their conversation. I couldn't care less.

That eye…

No.

I shuddered and squeezed my eyes shut as though the image would vanish. The whole _idea_ of it was impossible -

I refused to believe it.

* * *

I went to his room the next day, aware of the nurses and doctors that would report me. If this was even _vaguely_ what I thought it was then it would be in my best interest to avoid being seen around him. If it was even _him_ to begin with. Which meant there were so many other issues that I would need to be concerned with.

My new life was already in danger.

It pissed me off.

He was still asleep, the monitors on either side of him beeping calmly. I briskly walked back to the chart, picking it up in my free hand. I began to scan it, struggling with all the different characters. Eventually, I found his name and had to resist throwing the board through the window. I wanted to rage. I wanted to set the entire room on fire.

Whatever God or entity was fucking with me, I hoped they were happy with themselves.

I went back to my room and I crawled into bed. I pulled the covers over my face and for a while I laid there, quiet and soft, and pretended that I was dead. This was a corpse. I would never wake up.

I almost wished that I hadn't.

* * *

When I think of _Tokyo Ghoul_, there are two phrases that pop into my mind immediately and they sum up the series in its entirety. They don't appear in any significant order. When I think of them in my head, I always imagine the fangirls and fanboys screaming them righteously.

One - Kaneki Ken did nothing wrong.

Two - Fuck Uta but also _fuck Uta_.

The words spun around in my head as I perched in the chair beside his bed, knees drawn up so I could rest my chin on them. He was fast asleep, completely unaware of my presence. I wasn't even sure why I was there. Three days ago he had been moved into one of the shared rooms, his bed being rolled past my room with little fanfare. I had given a sour hiss and tugged my sheet back over my head, blocking out the world.

I wonder if I should feel thrilled. This is a dream come true for most fans. Then again, most people wouldn't want to live in a world where your best friend wants to eat you. Or maybe your neighbor. Ghouls look the same as humans, don't they? It just makes them a better predator.

I could die here. Again.

I deflated slightly as I gave a silent sigh, content to observe Kaneki with slightly narrowed eyes. I can recall as if it was yesterday, all the posts - tumblr post after tumblr post about how Uta was a hot mess and Kaneki never deserved anything bad ever. Theory after theory of how he was alive, he survived whatever Arima put him through, how Tsukiyama was suddenly _not_ the trash king and the prayers of a sequel. _Tokyo Ghoul_ was the only manga that I bothered to go and purchase. Every volume had been carefully organized and placed in order on my bookshelf.

He really didn't deserve what had happened to him. What _will_ happen to him. He had just wanted to go on a bookstore date. He hadn't wanted to be a ghoul. He hadn't wanted to change. He'd just wanted to go on a date and it had completely fucked him up. Then he had to go through a Jekyll and Hyde transformation as he'd battled with his morals and the hallucination of Rize, and later Jason, in his head. He had been _tortured until his hair turned white_ all because of a guy with a freak monkey wrench complex.

And then he'd gone insane.

And then he'd died.

He really didn't deserve any of it.

The boy shifted slightly and my eyes focused on his face. He was awake - large eyes staring at the ceiling in something akin to shock. His chest rose quickly as his breath quickened, and the machine began to follow, beeping increasing in sound and frequency. I barely had time to murmur a curse and crawl under his bed and out of sight before a couple nurses trotted in, their feet loud on the tile floor. They weren't as loud as their voices as they chatted to each other and then barked at Kaneki in some half-assed attempt to calm him down.

I could almost hear the moment they realized he was physically fine and was just having a bad dream. I wanted to smirk as their voices turned slightly disapproving. Kaneki, the poor soul that he was, apologized profusely in a raspy voice. Some malicious part of me wanted to swipe my leg out to trip the nurses as they departed with heavy sighs. That was some _great _patient treatment.

I lay there until the door clicked shut before slithering out from beneath the bed, wincing slightly as it stretched my arm. It was still in a sling, and would be for another two weeks or so. It was cumbersome and annoying, and don't even talk to me about the terrors of bathing. I popped back up and slithered back into my chair, turning to see Kaneki staring at me with wide and slightly frightened eyes.

He was sitting up now, his bed having been adjusted appropriately. He leaned against the pillows - he looked exhausted, large bags beneath his eyes. It was strange to me that after a moment of mutual staring he seemed to relax. He had some sort of recognition in his gaze, though I couldn't comprehend how. I blinked.

His smile was apologetic when it formed on his face. "Sorry," he said, though it took a minute to really translate it. That was mainly because I didn't expect his voice. It was a soft, gentle voice, not terribly deep, and held a tremble of nerves.

I tilted my head to the side, curious as to what on _earth_ he was apologizing for. That was, until I realized that this was exactly the type of person he was. The one who apologizes for everything. The one who will admit to being in the wrong when presented with confrontation. I put my chin on my knees again, eyes softening. Oh, how quickly he will change. I shook my head and shrugged, brushing off the apology.

He continued to eye me, and after a moment he asked, "What's your name?"

I felt no urge to speak. Not yet, anyway. I scooted my chair closer to his bedside so I could grab his hand to write the letters in his hand, only to pause.

My name?

What was my name?

Was I 'me' or was I 'Toki'? I almost pressed a hand against my head as a spike of pain ran through my brain. _I_ wasn't Toki. But this was Toki. This was obviously something I would need to think over, the boundary between my body and my mind. Was it even my mind? Would I call it my soul?

I eventually settled with Toki, if just for simplicities sake. I patiently drew the characters on his palm, ignoring his curious stare. When I finished I settled back in my chair and subconsciously wiped my finger on my hospital gown.

He stared at his hand for a moment before peering at me. "Toki?" I nodded my head and he gave me a smile. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Kaneki Ken."

I raised a brow and nodded my head knowingly. Course I knew his name. I was practically stalking him. I knew his future. It was amusing to watch his cheeks color as I continued to stare. He was a sensitive child, I would need to be careful. Didn't want to crush him or anything.

"Do you, ah," he started before he paused awkwardly. "Um, can you speak?"

Again, for simplicities sake, I shook my head no. He gave a nod of his own then and settled back against his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Thank you," he said after a moment. He looked at me from the corner of his eye. "You've been the one visiting me, right?"

I nodded hesitantly after a moment. He should have been asleep.

His smile was so self-deprecating that I had to resist the urge to wrap him up in comfy blankets and make him hot chocolate. Do they even have hot chocolate here?

"You're the only one," he murmured before his attention returned to the ceiling in quiet pondering.

For some strange, stupid reason, I couldn't stop smiling. It spread across my lips like a cancer and made my cheeks ache. For the first time since I had opened my eyes as somebody new, I felt a spark of something that wasn't _numb _or _cold_.

If this was _Tokyo Ghoul _then I needed to get the _hell_ out of Tokyo. I needed to get away from Kaneki Ken. Far away from Anteiku and Aogiri and the CCG. I wanted to live. _I wanted to live_.

But sitting here with Kaneki, I felt _warm_. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to leave. I watched the boy stare up at the ceiling. He really didn't deserve anything that happened to him. That _will_ happen to him. He just thanked a complete and total stranger for practically stalking him. He just wanted to go on a bookstore date. He didn't want to be a ghoul. He didn't want to change. He just wanted to go on a date and it was completely fucked up.

What was the hashtag? #ProtectKanekiKen2k14? Something like that.

I think I could get on board for that.

I stood and took his hand again, ignoring the way he flinched away from me, and started to write in his palm again. It took him a minute to get the message, but when he did I think all the blood rushed from his body to his cheeks. I managed a little chuckle before I left the room, waggling my fingers.

_Cute_, I thought as I headed back to my own room. _Too cute. In that totally nerdish way._

* * *

The two days and two visits later, I watched without expression as he puked up his lunch, not bothering to offer comfort. He was embarrassed, that much I could tell. He was often flustered around me, though I thought it was mostly his personality and Japanese culture rather than anything I did. I mainly sat here and occasionally wrote words in his hand and listened to him chat to me about random things, mostly books. It was nice.

He retched again, leaning over the bowl with a gurgle and a gasp. It didn't bother me. I had wanted to go into pre-med before all the university science classes started to drive me up the wall.

He put his face in his hands and shook. "I haven't managed to eat anything since I woke up," he choked. If I leaned forward, I would know the exact look on his face. Terror and shock and a creeping suspicion.

I just hugged my knees, gazing at him with soft eyes.

How was I supposed to help him if he was already beyond my reach?

* * *

**updated 8/10/15**


	3. Chapter 3

"_This is the first day of my life,_

_I'm glad I didn't die before I met you._"

_First Day of My Life_ by BRIGHT EYES

* * *

His expression didn't change, looking as pitying as ever. "Did you, Toki?"

Dr. Kamon Masako had a beard that was clipped close to his face and carefully groomed. I had yet to see him in casual clothing, him having shown up at each session in an immaculate suit and with carefully styled hair. It made me feel underdressed in my dingy hospital gown.

"Did you try to commit suicide?" His tone was soft, as though he was attempting to coax the words out of me, some sort of somber _confession_. I wasn't sure what he expected, because I hadn't done it - Toki had. He tapped his pen against his clipboard in a slow rhythm and for some reason it made me angry. Angrier than his stupid questions. It made me want to take the board and hit him over the head with it repeatedly. I just tightened my hands into fists on my lap, staring down at the lean fingers.

"Toki," he sighed heavily. Off came the glasses as he rubbed the bridge of his nose in mock stress. "You know that this is a safe place. And I know that you know your parents are _very_ concerned. We all just want you to get better, but unless you tell us what's wrong…" Dr. Kamon trailed off suggestively, waiting for me to speak.

I didn't.

Lately, though, it had gotten confusing on whether or not it was because I didn't want to talk or because I couldn't.

He began to tap on his board again, staring me down. After only a couple of seconds I looked away, focusing instead on the leg of his chair just visible below the table. Another sigh. "Have you heard of selective mutism?" he asked. I blinked at the ground without expression and he continued. "It is when a person, typically because of shyness or social anxiety, refuses to speak to certain people or in certain situations."

I wanted to scoff. I wasn't _shy_, and I didn't have any stupid anxiety issues. This circus was getting disturbingly familiar.

Perhaps he saw it on my face, because he leaned forward, attempting to get into my line of sight. "Would you like to know some of the symptoms typical with selective mutism? Avoidance of eye contact." I stiffened and, just to spite him, met his eyes with a fierce glare. Dr. Kamon just smiled at me as though I had done something to please him. "They tend to have difficulty expressing emotions and typically have a blank, expressionless mask."

I looked away, drawing my knees up to my chest, uncaring if it was inappropriate. It was all coincidence. I could express myself _just fine_.

"There are a couple of ways we can start to help you with this, two of which I'm going to implement into our sessions once you are released tomorrow. One of them is referred to as desensitization." He leaned down to his bag, which rested against his chair, and pulled out a light blue composition book. He held it out to me, but when I refused to reach out and take it he pushed it across the table between us. "During our sessions, I want you to try responding to me by writing in this notebook. That way you won't have to actually speak to me, okay?"

I stared hard at the innocent blue book as Dr. Kamon continued: "Outside of our biweekly meetings, I also want you to converse with me over email. The goal is to get you comfortable with talking with me until hopefully you feel safe enough to use your words."

_Use my words._ He made me sound like I was a child. I spared him a glance before returning my stare to the book.

Dr. Kamon began to tap again, this time against the table. "I'm also going to be speaking to your doctor about putting you on some anti-anxiety medication. Perhaps diazepam, or -"

I cut him off by way of flipping open the stupid book he gave me and reaching over to yank the pen out of his hand. He was completely useless.

Diazepam, better known as valium, was a fast acting anxiety medication that was a 'take when you need it' pill. It worked well for many people and was one of the first pills doctors prescribed to anxiety sufferers, but it was better for anxiety _attacks _rather than general anxiety. Not to mention that chances of getting addicted were on the higher scale since you just pop them back like candy. I rather not get addicted to valium, thank you very much, or even risk the chance of it. Not on top of all my other shit. If I was going to be forced to take meds then I would be damned if I ended up dependent on _valium_ of all things.

I scribbled a quick but all caps 'NO' on the first line and pushed the book back, slamming the pen down.

Some doctor. Besides, I didn't have social anxiety. And in any case, if he was under the impression that I was suicidal then that was a sign of depression. Then again, anxiety and depression often went hand in hand in which case he should be prescribing me an antidepressant. They tend to work for both symptoms and have low risk of addiction. I stared at him, lips twitching as I resisted a sneer. Did he even know what he was doing?

He blinked at me in surprise before calmly taking the book and peering at my single word. A raised brow was the only reaction I got before he gave me a grin. "This is a great first step, Toki!" _Ugh_. "Wonderful! This is good, good. Could you tell me if you meant 'no' to the medication or 'no' to the diazepam?" He seemed genuinely intrigued by my response.

It was convenient that the alarm on his phone went off, prompting me to rise quickly from my chair and stalk out the door, not even bothering to respond to his despondent goodbye. It was bad enough that I was going to have to meet with him twice a week, but he wanted me to talk to him outside of our sessions? Like hell.

I almost fell on my face when I tripped over a leg, broken arm swinging in its sling, whirling around with an irate expression only to stop cold at seeing the wincing Kaneki Ken sitting in one of the chairs by the door.

"Ouch, Toki, you're in a hurry," he joked, scratching his cheek with a shy smile. I cocked my head to the side and gestured to the door with a thumb. "No, I was just waiting for you. How did it go?"

My expression must have been pretty telling since he gave a sad grin. "Not good, huh?" I shook my head and grabbed his hand, pulling him up from his seat and after me as we walked back towards my hospital room. The two nosey bitches were still there. They had both seemed scandalized when I first brought Kaneki over and had drawn the curtains around their beds to whisper to each other obnoxiously. Though a third, much quieter woman who had been admitted three days ago had given us a secretive smile. Considering her enlarged abdomen I could only guess what the grin had meant.

We walked in and I took us immediately to my bed, releasing Kaneki to draw the curtain before sitting down. The boy was already seated at the end, cross legged and slightly nervous. It had taken him a couple of visits to get him comfortable enough to sit on the bed with me. I took his hand again once I was settled and set about drawing characters in his palm. '_Asked about the accident.'_

The boy frowned slightly. "Write the last word again?" I obliged, dragging my finger against the soft skin of his palm. "Oh. I'm sorry," he murmured once he got it, allowing his hand to rest lightly in my own. It had taken him a little while to get use to that as well. It seemed almost second nature to hold his hand now.

'_Annoying, not sad,'_ I wrote. '_He thinks I'm suicidal. Wants me to write him emails. And take meds.'_

"Do you think it would help?"

I gave him a look and shook my head. '_I don't want to die_.' I wrote it with pressure, trying to express how much I meant it. He frowned and looked down at his lap, his free hand fiddling with his own hospital garb. I shook his hand slightly to get his attention. When he glanced at me with sad grey eyes I gave him a smile. '_Cute_,' I wrote, and shook in silent laughter as he started to turn red. '_How are you feeling?'_

He made a small noise and looked off to the side, still slightly pink as he replied, "Okay." His voice was hesitant, however. "I still can't eat. I don't know what's wrong with me…"

'_Bad organs from a bad person,'_ I transcribed, half joking and half not.

Kaneki had confessed to me that Rize had attacked him but he hadn't mentioned that she was a ghoul, only saying that she had come at him with a knife. He probably thought that he had dreamt it up or something. It was easier to believe a realistic lie than a hard truth. To be honest though I was a bit disappointed he hadn't confided in me. But then I realized that if he never talked to Hide about it why on _earth_ would he ever talk to me?

His answering smile was dark and he gave a quiet noise of agreement. "Anyway, you're being released tomorrow, right? Are you excited?" Kaneki gave me an encouraging grin that begged me to allow the topic change. I did.

I shrugged. One got use to the hospital scene after living in one for three weeks. My life would be infinitely more boring without Kaneki to entertain me, and the couple of weeks without him promised to be dim. For some reason, he hadn't been allowed visitors so chances were that I wouldn't be able to see him until he was released. I could possibly try and sneak a peek when I came back to get my cast off in four days, but otherwise I was out of luck. All the free time would, however, give me a chance to go exploring. I wanted to see the CCG, as well as Anteiku. And, if I was brave enough, perhaps try to visit Uta's shop.

The mask maker had been one of my favorite _Tokyo Ghoul_ characters from the moment his face had appeared in the manga panel. I couldn't tell you what it was; I still don't know to this day. My love for him had only grown as the series progressed, until two sentences had completely stopped my world from spinning.

I had spent a good five minutes crying, another 10 in denial, and then proceeded to decide I must be a horrible person for still loving him.

I pushed the thoughts away. I would deal with Uta and his role in things when I had a plan figured out. As of now, I was just winging it. I wrote in his palm again. '_Can I have your phone number? I would love to stay in touch.'_ There was a moment after I finished writing that my chest seized up in a painful way, a seemingly impossible pressure against my heart and a fluttering of my stomach. The feeling was incredibly familiar and worrying - _I didn't have anxiety. I don't have anxiety._ The sensations immediately vanished when the words on his hand made Kaneki smile again. I couldn't help but smile back.

Kaneki Ken was like the sun and I wasn't so cold anymore.

* * *

Her father really was trying so hard.

"How are you feeling? You okay being in the car?"

"Do you want to get some lunch? I know a nice little place just down the street from here…"

"You can change the station if you want, I know you don't like jazz."

"Your hoody was ruined from your accident… we couldn't salvage it. It was your favorite though, wasn't it? Why don't we go get you another one?"

A part of me felt guilty for staring stubbornly out the window at the passing city, hands fisting in the material of my sweater. It seemed like a sham. I wasn't the object of his affection and care so he should just _stop_. I wasn't Toki. But he didn't know that and so we were at an impasse because I would be damned before I said anything to the contrary. I just got out of one hospital, I had no desire to be placed in another.

He had shown up at the hospital as early as he was allowed to be there, filling out paperwork and happily proclaiming how nice it would be to have me back in the house. Well, to have Toki back in the house. He had thrown a bag of clothes at me containing a black, oversized cotton knit sweater with a skeleton print and light blue skinny jeans matched with converse. I won't lie - I fell in love with that sweater as soon as I saw it, and was pleased that it fit my body so well. Then again, I used to be shorter and a bit thicker than Toki. If these were a prime example of what was in Toki's closet then I would be completely fine, if not pleased as punch. After changing I had been hussled out of the hospital without a chance to say goodbye to my only friend. Then we were driving away.

After about ten minutes of trying to start conversation he had turned up the music, some sort of Jpop, and focused hard on the road. Every few minutes he would glance at me before looking away. He reminded me immensely of a kicked puppy. I continued to ignore him, instead huddling in the warm seat of the car and allowing myself to drift off to the rumble of the engine.

It seemed impossibly soon that my shoulder was gently being shaken, Toki's father whispering quietly in my ear. I flinched away hard out of reflex, banging my head against the glass of the window. "Ah! Careful there," he cooed, sliding out of the car to come around to my side, opening the door. "You okay?"

I nodded my head and slipped down to the earth, glancing around at the surprisingly immense garage we were parked in. I followed the man towards the front of the car to the door that supposedly led inside the house and saw that there were four other cars of varying expense parked neatly in a row. I wondered vaguely if any of them were stick shift. And if any of them would be mine.

The door did not, actually, lead to the house - it opened into open air and a sprawling yard that seemed to circle around the house, making it a little island. Four walls rose up around the large two story building, probably for protection and security. I could see a large double door in the wall to my left with a path that led through the grass and brush, probably to the front door.

I could vaguely heard the bubble of what I would assume was a fountain or a pond as I followed Toki's dad to the door of the house. There were trees and bamboo and all sorts of flowers everywhere. It was like a little slice of heaven. I could picture myself sitting out here and reading for a few hours...

The two of us walked into the house to see a large open space with nice leather sofas and wooden floors. I cocked my head to the side, impressed by how… warm and _homey_ the place felt. Large and expensive houses tended to have the opposite effect but not this time. The walls were decorated with pictures in modern frames, almost all of them pictures of Toki either alone or with her parents. The wall opposite of the door was made of sliding glass doors that opened out into the yard and a small terrace. The ceiling was high above my head and was filled with skylights.

Before I could investigate further, Toki's mother came in from what was most likely the kitchen with a broad grin. She rushed over to me and wrapped me tightly in her arms. The woman must have not noticed or just plain ignored how tense I got, and she was still smiling when I gently untangled myself from her grasp.

"Oh hon, it's so nice to have you back. The place hasn't been the same without you." She placed a peck to my forehead, a motion I had gotten used to during her daily hospital visits, and when her back was turned I wiped the kiss away.

"C'mon, c'mon, I wanna show you something!" The woman shared a conspiratory look with her husband before pulling me to the wooden stairs, tugging me up by the hand. I purposefully refused to return her grip in hopes of discouraging her. Again, she didn't seem to notice, only releasing me once we reached the landing and started down the hall. "I know you were talking about painting your room, so I thought to celebrate you coming home… wallah!"

She pushed open the door at the end of the hall to reveal what must have been Toki's room - and now my room.

It was large, square in shape with the far wall mostly filled with a large window. The floors were a polished red wood though there was a seemingly random scattering of red, white, and black rugs everywhere. There was a huge bed, probably King or Queen sized, with a fluffy looking white and red spotted comforter in a black frame. A matching night stand was on the right and a red ottoman was at the foot of the bed. On the wall across from the bed was a desk as well a door that most likely led to a bathroom. There was a bean bag in the corner but otherwise the room was relatively bare.

I stepped inside and looked around to see a closet with traditional rice paper doors and a full length mirror hanging next to it.

The mother was shifting now. "Well?" she inquired. "Don't you like it? This is what you wanted, right?" She seemed terribly nervous about my opinion, twisting her wedding band round and round in circles on her finger.

I blinked at her before looking at the walls again. The wall the bed was against was a red color, seemingly matching the ottoman and the spots on the comforter perfectly. The rest of the walls were white. On the opposite wall next to the desk was a decal of a black tree with red petals. A few of the petals were floating away as though pushed by some invisible wind.

All in all?

Toki had some serious style. I approved.

I decided that Toki's mother deserved some form of compensation for her work, and I managed to work up a small smile for her. That alone seemed to thrill her and she lunged forward again, wrapping her arms around me so tightly I was afraid I would forget how to breathe. "I'm so happy you're home," she murmured into my shoulder.

I just stared at the petals on the tree and figured that if this was what a _smile_ could do then perhaps I should try at least a _little_. I didn't need to talk to them or pretend to be their loving daughter. But I could stop being a frigid statue whenever they became affectionate. So I carefully raised my hand to pat her back.

The woman sniffed and pulled away, wiping at her eyes. Her husband was leaning against the wall with a fond smile on his face. "Oh, look at me, I'm a mess!" she laughed. "I'll let you rest - you're probably tired or something. But don't eat any snacks because I'm making your favorite tonight for dinner! Okay? It's already in the crockpot!"

"Yum," her father drawled. "Nikujaga!"

The woman playfully smacked his shoulder as they exited the room and shut the door. Nikuwhata? What on _earth_ was that?

I made a face at the door before looking around the room again. The closet seemed like the best place to start and I slid it open expectantly. Sure enough a litany of sweaters and long sleeve shirts, colorful leggings and skinny jeans. I wasn't surprised, considering that it was the colder months of the year. Toki had neatly folded away her summer wear into bins on the floor where I could see tank tops and shorts.

She had a couple of different style converse and two pairs of those weird floral Doc Martens, but what really made me happy was the pair of dark brown mid calf combat boots.

_I had always wanted some._

I slid the closet shut with a grin and moved to the desk, observing the scattering of papers. She had those desk organizer things that separated her pencils from her pens and a stand for folders that held whatever school work she still had. The drawers didn't have anything too interesting, though there was a small compartment that she had fitted with a lock. I pursed my lips and decided that I would go investigating through that another time.

Next to the desk, however, was a purse. I dug through it, pulling out make up, lip gloss, bubble gum, a nail file, nail _polish_, and - yes! - her phone and wallet. I tossed everything else away and sat cross legged on one of the rugs and started with the latter, flipping it open. There wasn't a driver's license, which irritated me, but a student ID. As far as I had figured out, though, Toki had graduated high school a semester early so I had no idea why on earth she would still have it. I shrugged and went through the rest of her wallet, pleased to note that there were a multitude of gift cards as well as a decent handful of cash. She had a credit card (or a debit card, I couldn't tell the difference) as well. I'd have to see how much Toki had in her bank account later.

I then switched to her phone. It was a smart phone, that much I could tell, and looked somewhat like an iPhone but with a few differences. It was like some sort of hybrid between apple and android. I went to turn it on only to frown when the screen showed an empty battery. Of course it would be dead - Toki hadn't exactly been here to charge it. The cord was by the nightstand and I went over to plug it in, deciding that now was a good time to see what kind of bed I would be sleeping on. The ones in the hospital weren't exactly comfortable. I rolled on top of the comforter and let loose a happy sigh. Not too firm, but not too soft. Goldilocks had found her bed.

Perhaps Toki wasn't _so_ bad…

It seemed like it was seconds later that the hybrid phone was buzzing and beeping away, having enough juice to power up and alert me all to cheerfully to the multitudes that had been sent Toki's way. I picked it up and pressed the center button, resisting the urge to frown when it opened up right away. What, did she have no protection on her phone? No code I would need to figure out? Even that fingerprint thing would be better than nothing.

That thought quickly flew out the window however when I realized how _many _messages she had. At least a hundred, a few from the same people but mostly single messages all offering words of encouragement and worry. I patiently emptied out her inbox before browsing through her apps, noting that she was apparently a large part of the social media scene. Instagram, twitter, facebook. I went through a couple of her pictures before I deleted the apps.

It always interested me how the saddest souls could seem the happiest people.

She had a couple of typical phone games, such as Candy Crush, Angry Birds, and 2048. I deleted the first two but kept the latter. I cleared out her phone of anything that didn't interest me, slowly but steadily creating a blank slate. Eventually I resorted to simply restoring the device to it's factory settings.

I erased her.

And then, when the phone was warm in my hand from use and the sun had fallen towards the horizon, I used her skin to eat with her parents, who smiled at me like I was a shining star. I put on her clothes and I slipped into her bed after clearing out her desk of any remnants of the girl who used to live here. I tried not to cry as I wondered if someone was erasing who I used to be back at home, too.

I typed out a message to Kaneki - 'I miss you.'

I didn't send it.

I fell asleep.

* * *

**updated 8/10/15**


	4. Chapter 4

"_She loved mysteries so much that she became one._"

John Green

* * *

Using the internet on the small smart phone gave me a headache like no other, but I managed to pull up a map with the cafe's location. I followed the little blip of blue on the screen that I recognized as myself until I arrived at a strangely familiar building which wasn't too far from my home. The sign that hung above the door informed me that I was in the right location. It was still morning, given that I had made my escape from the house as soon as physically possible, and the cafe was bustling and busy. I slid my phone into the pocket of my hoodie before stepping inside, peering about with curious eyes.

It didn't feel different, something that intrigued me. Considering that the place was run by ghouls, I had expected it to feel mysterious or ominous but it had the same homey, calming feel that every other coffee shop seemed to have. The lighting was warm and the soft, polished wood of the furniture made the entire place seem impeccably clean. It was interesting to see something similar to a bar, however, with a chubby cheeked man smiling politely at customers as he took their orders.

I recognized him vaguely, if only because I knew that there were only three people besides Yoshimura who worked at Anteiku, the three being Touka, the Devil Ape guy, and then the girl who had the dog mask that reminded me of Anubis. What I could remember about the Devil Ape was that he use to kill humans at random and was in a gang or something until he was taken in by Yoshimura and reformed. The girl who wasn't Touka had the same story. Or something like that. Up until his debut as an ass kicker later in the manga, however, he had given off the appearance of a conceited, though nice and friendly, guy.

I slid into an open chair at the bar and set my purse in my lap. My knuckles were white from the strength I was gripping the straps, my broken arm tingling slightly as the tendons were abused.

It was one thing to think about going into a cafe full of ghouls who could kill you in seconds and quite another to actually _do it_.

It took all I had not to run away when the man took notice of me and approached, an easy going grin on his face.

"Good morning!" he said cheerfully. "What can I get for a lovely young lady such as yourself?" One eye closed in a wink and I felt myself relax slightly. He reminded me of the cafe itself - warm, kind. But I knew the danger that lay underneath the exterior. I knew that despite appearances he wasn't human and to him I was just a tasty snack. I was reminded of the bible story, something about a Daniel and him winding up in a lion's den. Instead of being eaten, though, they all started cuddling.

I doubted that the ghouls wanted to cuddle.

I opened my mouth before closing it again, managing to untangle one hand to tap against my throat with an apologetic smile. The Devil Ape's expression turned into one of confusion before he nodded understandingly. "Can't talk, huh? That's rough." He vanished as he bent beneath the counter before popping back up with a menu which he handed to me. "Go ahead and just point out what you want to me, alright? I'll make it extra special for you."

I blinked at him before looking at the laminated sheet in my hand. They had food as well as drinks, but I wasn't feeling particularly hungry given the circumstances. While I was a bit more relaxed my stomach was still in tangled knots and that same old lump in my throat was still lodged in my esophagus. Nothing on the menu particularly caught my eye. The man was hovering and I decided to take a leap of faith that he wouldn't crush me by holding out my hand.

He stared at it for a second before looking at me in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

I shook my hand again in emphasis and awkwardly tapped my palm, arm slightly crooked with the cast. After a moment he slowly reached over with his hand palm up. I took it in mine and tried my best to ignore his suspicious stare and the intimidating aura. _'Surprise me,'_ I wrote softly, carefully, and I pulled away quickly once I had finished as though his hand would bite me. And who is to say that it wouldn't have?

The suspicion faded away in favour of fascination. "So that's how you talk to people? Oh! Say something else!" He thrust his hand out eagerly to me with a grin on his face and I couldn't help jerking back in surprise.

That was not the response I had been expecting.

I obeyed, however, and with the smallest of grins proceeded to write in his palm, enjoying the transition of expressions on his face. "That's cool," he drawled, staring between me and his palm. Then he started. "Oh! Surprise! I'll whip something up for you, just one minute!" Ape man immediately set to work grinding the beans and heating up the water, chatting to me all the while. "What's your name?" He stretched his hand out to me again and I obediently scrawled my name in his palm. "Toki, huh?" he hummed. "Cute name for a cute girl. I'm Koma Enji." Another wink was thrown my way as he poured hot water into the grounds. I observed him for a while before smiling, putting my chin in my hand.

The fear left me.

* * *

I came again the next day, this time taking a seat at a table instead of the bar. The cafe was, for the most part, abandoned at this time with only a few people sipping their drinks. I had brought Toki's laptop, freshly restored at a nearby shop so that I could go searching for some music. It was too quiet in my head. A brief perusal of the music world led me to the belief that not much of my universe (dimension, reality, whatever) was the same as this one. Bands were different, artists didn't exist, novels had never been created or were slightly different under a different tite. The curse known as _Twilight_ was still here, disguised as the young adult novel _Blood and Diamonds_. It was still just as terrible.

That was a mental breakdown in and of itself, but we'll save that for another time.

The other girl, the one who wasn't Touka, was behind the bar, cleaning the cups. I kept an eye out for the girl who _was_ Touka as she scurried about taking care of the few people scattered about the cafe. She stopped to talk with a blond girl every once in a while, a person I vaguely recognized as her human friend. Well, 'friend'. I'd always been convinced that there was something more going on there.

Maybe it was just my inner romantic?

I kept myself entertained by surfing the web for whatever music caught my interest and downloading it onto the computer, avoiding using the internet for any other purpose. I could only handle so much… difference at a time. When Touka made it to my table I shut the lid and gave her a polite smile. She returned it easily and asked me what I wanted. Enji had never told me what he had made me while we had chatted the few hours other day but it had been good whatever it was. I tapped a finger to my chin and went to type on my laptop (I sincerely doubted she would have let me write in her hand) before the Devil Ape himself plopped into the seat in front of me.

"Toki!" he said cheerfully with a wink. I couldn't help the smile that curled up my lip. It was interesting that such a violent and brutal man could joke around with me so easily. "What, can't resist me? You were only here yesterday. I should have known you would fall for me at some point," he sighed dramatically.

I shook my head in exasperation and took his hand to write in it slowly. He had a much harder time understanding what I was saying than Kaneki but to put anyone on the teenager's level wouldn't be fair. '_What was the coffee you made me the other day? I wanted another one.'_

Enji made a face but turned to Touka, who had been watching with a strange expression, note-pad crinkled slightly in her tight fists. "White chocolate mocha for the lady, please," he drawled.

Touka shifted her weight to one foot in what I came to recognize as a sign of aggression. "And why don't you make it?" Her eyebrow rose in challenge.

Enji gave the girl a pout. "Aw, I'm on break! Besides, these are your tables and there's hardly anyone here." The smile came back. "Anyway, I wanna chat with Toki."

When Touka gave him a glare, Enji's aura seemed to change. It was interesting to watch as he straightened and looked her in the eye. I could only compare it to two dogs having a stand off. "She's a friend, Touka," he said with deadly cheer. The urge to do something to break the awkward stare down was nearly overwhelming as I remained stuck between them, glancing from one to the other.

The girl didn't relax or seem to submit to the demand. Instead she sent me a suspicious glare, then turned tail to go and make my drink. I watched her go with a heavy feeling in my chest, shoulders shaking just slightly. I wrote in Enji's hand. '_She's kind of a scary one.'_

The man gave a laugh and it was as if nothing had happened. "Usually people say that about me! Don't worry about her. She's just shy." I raised a brow in response and leaned back in my chair. He was scary? Yeah, he was the ape man or whatever who killed a ton of people, but he seemed… really nonthreatening. It was almost insane how friendly and approachable he appeared to be.

Enji just leaned forward. "So… Can I write on your cast today?" A smile spread across my lips and I shook my head. "Aw, why not! I promise I won't write anything weird! Please!"

I made a show of thinking about it, looking up at the ceiling and tapping my lips, tilting my head to the side and sighing. Then I shook my head no, silent laughs shaking me as he pouted. My attention was nabbed however when the blond friend of Touka trotted up to the counter with a smile, speaking to the frowning girl before leaving the cafe. Taking his hand, I wrote, '_Is the blond Touka's girlfriend? They look really cute together.'_ I didn't expect him to know but perhaps there was a clue. I could make this my side project - designation 'Get Touka To Hook Up With Her Best Friend'. Sounded very _Mission Impossible_ to me.

Enji's jaw dropped before he furrowed his brow in wonder. "I have no idea," he mused, before turning in his seat to yell, "Hey, Touka! Was that your girlfriend?"

Her response was a cup thrown at his head and I laughed.

* * *

When I approached Uta's shop I walked straight past it.

I wasn't ready yet.

* * *

My arm smelled absolutely _terrible_. I observed the pale, exposed limb, the skin dry and flaky from being in the cast for so long. A long scab trailed along the inside of my arm from where the bone had poked through. It would probably scar. It was a little bit of a struggle to move it in certain ways due to the minor atrophy but I had expected that.

"Could you move your arm this way, Toki?" the doctor asked, demonstrating with his own arm.

I obeyed and bent it at the elbow and twisted my wrist, a slight twinge being the only unnatural feeling. His gloved hands felt cool on the sensitive skin as he pressed and prodded. This was where he would have asked me if it hurt anywhere or if I felt any strain but I hadn't answered him any of the other times he had asked. Thankfully, he had learned that it was pointless.

The man turned to Toki's mother, who sat in the chair by the bed, and gave her a smile. "Well, it looks like everything is healing as it should. I suggest coming back in a couple of weeks to make sure it's still healing properly." He started to pull off the gloves to throw away.

She stood and came to stand by me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I struggled not to shrug it off. I had gotten better with the parents touching me but… it was still hard. "Thank you so much," Toki's mother said sincerely. "Is there anything in particular that she should in regards to her arm? Exercises, cleaning…"

He smiled. "Just some general stretching should do it. Toki's doing very well. As for cleaning, I would say that she needs to soak her arm in warm water for twenty minutes and then dry gently with a soft towel twice a day for about five days. She can't scratch at her scab, otherwise it could develop an infection and damage the new skin. Otherwise, there isn't much to do. She can shower normally but she will need to be gentle with her arm and use only mild soaps. It's healing but it's still a bit feeble."

Toki's mom nodded and turned to me. "You get all that?"

I nodded and reached for her hand, taking it into my own to write the word 'bathroom'. Then I hopped off the bed and into the hall while pulling my sleeve over my arm gingerly, wincing slightly as the fabric slid over the sensitive skin. I had a nerd to find.

The woman called something after me about meeting at the front desk. I waved an arm behind me absently and turned the corner, heading toward Kaneki's room. This was under the assumption that they hadn't moved him.

He was still in the same room as when I'd arrived, a book in his hands, his face looking a bit more depressed, drawn out. He seemed exhausted. I half-hoped that he had missed me like I'd missed him. Butterflies flowed through my stomach and my chest ached as I nervously knocked on the wall to alert him to my presence. What if he didn't want to see me? What if he forgot about me? What if -

The boy looked up and his face brightened like the sun once he caught sight of me. My sun. "Toki!" And heaven help me if his voice didn't sound as excited as I felt. He tossed his book onto the foot of his bed and slithered out from under the sheets to greet me. My body relaxed and I entered, taking advantage of his struggle with his shoes to sneak a hug.

Predictably, he stiffened, but I enjoyed his warmth for just a second. He was comforting and I breathed him in. I released him after a moment, unable to contain the smile that spread across my features. Kaneki had a healthy dose of crimson in his cheeks and gave a cough. "Y-you didn't have to hug me," he mumbled, and I shook with a silent laugh. I took his hand.

'_Cute,'_ I wrote. My smile grew as the flush became more evident in his cheeks. One would think that he would grow used to me saying so but Kaneki never did. Each time I said it he would give me a blush and a stutter. He didn't tear his hand away though, or scold me or push me away. He never did. Instead he mumbled something I couldn't quite decipher and pulled me towards his bed. Perhaps the distance had done him some good, considering he had never taken the initiative before. I appreciated it, though - it made me feel like I wasn't the only one who wanted this friendship, wanted to be close. I obediently sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed while he crawled back under the duvet and rested back against the pillows.

"So you got your cast off?" he said after a moment of staring at me. I nodded and held out my arm for him to observe, though he didn't touch it. "Does it still hurt?" This time I shook my head.

'_I gotta be careful with it though. It's a bit sensitive. And also seriously disgusting.'_

He nodded. "And your parents? How are things with them?"

A shrug. '_Better. I'm trying.'_ I shifted closer to him on the bed. '_I don't wanna talk about me. How are you? How is your eating? Any good book suggestions? I'm bored out of my mind without you.'_

Here Kaneki stiffed for a second but then he mimicked me with a short, emotionless shrug. "Still not able to keep anything down," he admitted. "But I did get this book I think you would like…" He continued to chat with me, showing me the new book he had convinced the nurses to get for him. I rested my face in my hands and watched him talk, smiling softly. It was so cliché and stupid but… he really was the reason I was smiling. I didn't like that fact - oh God, did I hate it. I wanted to hate him. But I couldn't.

Curse my bleeding heart but I didn't want him to die.

I should have run. Ditched this life that Toki had and take off. Go to America. Or anywhere that the plot couldn't get to me. I had no urge to get involved with Touka, or Uta, or the CCG, or ghouls in general. This was my second chance and I wanted the chance to live through it.

But I couldn't leave him here.

I took his hand in mine again and simply held it, ignoring the look he gave me, intent on just touching the smooth skin of his palm and feeling the slightest brush of his nails against my wrist as his fingers curled. I closed my eyes.

And as it always was when I was with Kaneki Ken, the visions of fire and memories of pain and death didn't descend.

"Hey, are you okay?" He leaned forward, dark eyes concerned. "Should I call a nurse?"

I shook my head and traced my words against his wrist, noting his slight shiver. '_No.'_ I paused. '_I just missed you.'_

He looked at me blankly for a second. Then he gave me such a bright smile. "I missed you too," Kaneki said.

No, I most definitely couldn't leave my sun behind.

* * *

To: Aibu Toki [aibutoki7 at gmail . com]

From: Kamon Masako [kamon . masako at cox . net]

Subject: Email Conversation

Dear Toki,

Hello! How are you doing? I understand that you may have a hard time starting a conversation with people so I thought that I would make this a little easier and start it myself. It is incredibly important for us to maintain contact with each other. If we do this regularly you will be one step closer to conversing with your voice.

I heard that you got your cast off. How is your arm? It must have been tiring to not be able to use your arm. I can't imagine how hard it must have been to do normal, everyday things without an arm.

Our next session will be at my private office outside of the hospital and I'm eager to talk to you again. I hope you will be more receptive to conversing with me outside of such a clinical setting.

Sincerely,

Dr. Kamon

* * *

To: Kamon Masako [kamon . masako at cox . net]

From: Aibu Toki [aibutoki7 at gmail . com]

Subject: RE: Email Conversation

Dear Dr. Kamon,

Kindly go fuck yourself.

Sincerely,

Aibu Toki

* * *

"Do you have nothing better to do than hang out here?" Touka set my cup of coffee in front of me and crossed her arms, hip cocked and tapping her foot. I pulled out an earbud and gave her a grin, leaning back in my seat as I shook my head. The girl gave a sigh that sounded half irritated and half concerned. However, the concern may have just been in my imagination. She looked around the little cafe to check on her customers before she shrugged and sat down across from me. "Seriously, you've been in here every day the last 4 days. Don't you have a life?"

I smiled at Touka and shook my head again, holding out my hand for her to place hers in. After another sigh she laid it flat on the table instead. '_You and Enji are my friends,'_ I wrote. '_I like seeing you guys.'_

"We aren't friends," the ghoul scowled. "Stop saying we are." I just continued to smile at her, knowing the 16-year-old relatively well given my sources. We weren't actually friends, she was right in that. But I was getting there which, considering how long it took Kaneki, made me feel pretty pleased with myself. I was close. Touka was a really hard girl to befriend. She kept everyone at a distance with cold words and a harsh gaze. When I had first met Touka, she had been nice, as seen in the manga, then hesitant, something _not_ seen in the manga, and upon realizing that I could handle her being a bitch proceeded to act herself, which was what I had seen in the manga.

It reminded me of my sister.

Touka opened her mouth as though to continue arguing her point but seemed to think better of it, falling silent. In the silence Yoshimura spoke up from behind the counter, calling the ghoul over to take care of a customer. I watched the girl go and gave the old man a wave and a smile, one he returned with a grin. It was hard work and required a little more patience than I really had but I was slowly integrating myself into the coffee shop scene.

It would probably be what saved my life.

I had no intentions of going through this story without them knowing that I _knew_. When the time was right I would tell Kaneki, and similarly I would tell Touka and everyone else. A mere human with no knowledge couldn't do anything to help. But a human _with_ knowledge… I could help save lives. I could _do_ something. I wouldn't be stuck clueless while everything was changing around me.

But right now, at this moment, if they knew I knew their identities then I would be killed without hesitation. Perhaps a smidgen of regret but it would be easy for them.

I wondered if they would eat me…?

I wondered if humans had various tastes? Were we like turkeys with dark and light meat? Were certain parts more tender than others? What about the organs? I imagined that they were a bit of a rubbery texture, or that was how they looked in the films at least. Did how humans look or smell have any effect on how they tasted? What about men and woman, were they different? Both had entirely different levels of hormones and testosterone and estrogen. Did that change anything?

Touka didn't manage to come back to talk - new customers began to arrive for that lunch time rush and the poor girl was swamped. I gave her a wave as I packed up my stuff and left, squeezing past a man in a business suit as he forced his way to the counter. It was as I was exiting through the door, looking down at my feet so I didn't trip over the threshold that I accidentally collided with a solid form of black. I pulled away with a stinging nose, unable to muster up the strength to push an apology through the lump in my throat. It wouldn't have mattered anyway, considering that the rock doubled in size as I looked up.

He was wearing those dorky sunglasses that he always seemed to wear, which was surprisingly my first thought. My second was that he really did have a large amount of tattoos. And then he spoke and his voice brushed by my memory like a whisper - "Sorry, are you alright?"

I ran.

* * *

The next time I found my feet dragging me towards HySy ArtMask Studio was the same day that I decided to raid Toki's parents liquor cabinet.

A few shots of vodka would get his voice out of my head.

* * *

**updated 8/10/15**


	5. Chapter 5

"_I've said it once, I've said it twice,_

_I've said it a thousand fucking times,_

_That I'm okay, that I'm fine, that it's all just in my mind._"

_It Never Ends_ by BRING ME THE HORIZON

* * *

I was entirely aware that drinking when things got rough was not the way to go. It didn't stop me from sipping my fruity, homemade concoction as I took a break from hammering away at the lock on Toki's 'secret' compartment. I hadn't bothered with it in the two weeks since my release since I had been a bit preoccupied. Ghouls were no easy people to befriend and I honestly didn't want to deal with whatever crap the girl thought she needed to lock away.

I twisted the hammer in my hand, taking a delicious sip of malibu rum, pineapple juice, and some soda water to make it fizzy. The rum was a little bit on the more difficult side to get but it wasn't impossible to find in stores. Thankfully I didn't need to go and buy it - I praised the westerner father for the bountiful variety of liquor in the house, all within easy reach. Little ol' Toki would never do something so illegal as… gasp! Underage drinking? I gave a snort at the thought and flipped the hammer around and placed it in the gap between the door and the base of the small compartment, jerking rather unsuccessfully.

If it weren't for the fact that I still hadn't managed to speak past the lump in my throat I would have been cursing. This was proving to be more trouble than it was worth but I had always found myself to be a bit more stubborn than usual when under the influence of alcohol. I set my drink down and scooted closer, bringing the hammer down once, twice, a third time. The lock gave a loud snap and dangled there. I threw up my arms and grinned.

I tossed the lock to the side and popped open the compartment, pulling out a couple of journals, sheets of looseleaf paper, a sketchpad, and what looked like a fancy box. The papers were typically teenagerish with quotes about love and life and phrases from some of her favorite songs. I went through the sketchpad and was intrigued to find that she was actually quite a good artist. There were a lot of gorgeous headshots of seemingly random people she had found on the street. Young, old, male, female - all there carefully shaded and detailed. I was curious as to why she felt like she had to hide this and the thought came unbidden from the other side of my mental wall.

_It wasn't what they wanted me to be._

I couldn't summon up the energy to care about how cliché it was. I tossed the book to the side by the lock and papers and moved on to the box. I flipped it open and observed the multiple razor blades inside before closing it again and moving it to the side. I took a few chugs and wished that I had added a couple more parts of rum. It would be my luck to wind up in a suicidal teenager. But I had already known that - jumping into traffic was a bit of a telling sign.

It wouldn't be too hard to guess what exactly the journals entailed considering what else I had found. I briefly skimmed through them though, still nursing my drink like an old baby blanket, stopping on what appeared to be the briefest entry written a couple months before the accident. It caught my eye and I focused on it.

"_I'm so tired of being sad. But what is worse is that I know I have nothing to be sad about but how do you stop feeling like the world is ending and you can't stop it?"_

I disliked how strongly her words resonated with me and tossed the journal back into the compartment, as well as all the other things that had been hidden. Some part of me felt, out of respect for the deceased, that I should lock it up again. I sighed and closed my eyes, resting on my back and downing the rest of my drink. At this point I could probably be labeled as an alcoholic. I think that I could get a bit of slack, however - it wasn't exactly normal to have a deadly version of _Freaky Friday_ thrust upon you.

Toki probably should have been hospitalized. My brows furrowed as I stared at the ceiling and retconned that - she _definitely_ should have been hospitalized. I went to take another sip only to realize that I had already downed it all and tossed the cup across the room in irritation. I was seriously going to be an alcoholic at this point. But it was honestly better to be pleasantly buzzed throughout the day and drunk beyond all comprehension at night than dealing with the dreams and _his_ voice bouncing around in my brain. It was more fun to drink with friends though. Maybe I could get ahold of some kind of ghoul alcohol and get Kaneki to drink with me. _That_ would be a party.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand where I had left it to charge and I surged to my feet, enjoying the slightly noodle like sensation in my limbs and the pressure in my head. I nabbed the device and slid my finger across the screen to see a text from Kaneki and my heart flipped slightly. Speak of the devil. And since when did guys text first?

To: Aibu Toki

From: Kaneki Ken

_Hey! My friend Hide wanted to go to Big Girl, the American-style restaurant, to celebrate me getting out of the hospital. Do you want to come with? We would meet in about half an hour._

I tilted my head to the side, pondering. I'd probably sober up by the time I got there and meeting Hide was something that I had always wanted to do. I don't know why Kaneki would want to go out to eat though since he couldn't eat regular food - Oh, right. I started to text a reply, a frown on my face. I had forgotten about this part.

To: Kaneki Ken

From: Aibu Toki

_Sure, I'd love to. I'll see you there._

I clicked the phone off and stretched my arms up above my head, a sigh escaping my lips. Worse came to worse I would have to clean up all the vomit but I didn't mind if it was Kaneki. I'd seen him puke before. I threw on a brown leather jacket over my black turtleneck and stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth. Wouldn't do for them to smell the rum on my breath, would it? I slipped on Toki's fantastic brown lace up boots and snatched my purse, trotting down the stairs with a skip in my step. I made a pit stop to write a note to Toki's parents saying where I was going and grabbed a water bottle before heading out the door.

I looked up the location on my phone and obediently followed the directions provided. It all worked out, considering that it was about a half an hour to get there from my house by walking. I could have nabbed a car considering I knew how to drive it but then I would be screwed if I got pulled over. So walking it was.

Kaneki was waiting outside for me, hands in the pockets of his jacket. I recognized the tell-tale hair of his best friend, Hide, who was waiting beside him up against the wall of the building. I took a swig of water and blinked at them, lifting a hand to wave and catch their attention. Hide lifted a hand to point to me and Kaneki turned, calling out my name. "Toki! Over here!"

Call me a loser but I happily trotted over like a faithful dog, smiling like a loser.

"Hey Toki," Kaneki said with a large smile. "This is my friend, Nagachika Hideyoshi - Hide, this is Aibu Toki, my friend from the hospital."

Hide gave me a long look from my toes to my head and gave a whistle. "Don't know how Kaneki got a friend like you! But I'm glad he did." A smile crossed with a smirk graced his admittedly handsome features and he held out a hand to shake. "You can just call me Hide." I took it, thinking that it was just a bit larger than Kaneki's hand.

Hide had always been the character who, for me, had been easily forgotten about until he popped up in a panel. When he did show back up it was always with an extreme amount of fondness and affection. He was just the most adorable thing, and seeing him in real life only made me realize _wow_, he was as cute in person as he was an anime character. But he was also the most perceptive character on the entire show and managed to discover Kaneki's transformation all by himself, and considering I had quite a few secrets of my own I would have to be careful around him. I didn't want to be.

I wanted a drink.

There was silence in the space where I was supposed to reply and I looked to Kaneki in the awkwardness. "Oh!" he started, and gave a weird laugh. "Toki can't talk."

Hide's jaw fell open and his lips made an 'o' shape. I tilted my head to the side and shrugged sheepishly, turning the boy's hand over to write, '_Hi.'_

Another pause. "Now _that's_ interesting." He was watching me now and his stare made me want to curl up in a ball and hide. I played it off and turned to Kaneki. Half of me wanted to hug him, the other half -

_"Sorry, are you alright?"_

I pushed the voice in my head off to the side. The three of us walked into the restaurant and I really, _really_ wanted a drink. Which was bad. I needed to lay off because at this rate I would just be setting myself up for failure. I didn't need anymore bad habits, let alone self-destructive ones. I'd had enough of those to last me a lifetime. Or two, considering this would be my second lifetime. Oh, semantics, semantics.

"So, what's your poison, Toki?" Hide drawled with a sort of purr, and his choice of words didn't slip my notice. Innocent or purposeful... My lips twitched up into something like a smile. We all took a seat, Kaneki next to me and Hide before us, the waitress leaving to get us drinks. "Cheeseburger, plain burger, bacon burger, other burger?" he continued with a flourish.

I flipped open the menu that had been set out and perused the options. When I pointed out the plain cheeseburger the blond gave an appreciative nod. "I like the fried egg burger myself. So, so good!" He rubbed his stomach dramatically. Kaneki was smiling at us like he knew some sort of secret and I nudged his leg with my own. He returned the nudge as a waitress approached and set our drinks down, outfit inappropriately tight and skirt just those couple inches too short. I eyed her up and down as Hide relayed our orders.

"She's nice, huh…" Hide hummed with a slick grin, watching the girl as she walked away. "Miss Ohashi…" After a moment of staring he seemed to snap out of it, smile widening if that was at all possible as he stared at Kaneki. "But that doctor of yours, he got a lot of flak, didn't he? They talked about nothing else on the TV." The way he spoke made it sound as if they had been talking about it earlier before I had arrived, a continuation of a previous conversation.

Kaneki swirled his glass and absently watched the ice clink together. "Yeah, they were saying that there was a problem because he performed the transplant without gaining consent from the hospital board or the bereaved family."

"She didn't have any family, though, did she?" I looked back and forth between the two, resting my chin in my hands. "And besides, they said she was dead on arrival…" There was a pause where both Hide and I looked at the blank expression on Kaneki's face. "Oh," the blonde boy rushed, hands fluttering nervously, "Sorry, I -"

"No," he interrupted, taking a sip of his drink. "No, it's fine." I looked between the two, not really remembering what that was all about. Kaneki was starting to zone out and Hide quickly picked up conversation, turning to me with a renewed smile.

"So, what school do you go to? Are you in college?"

I shook my head, gingerly writing in the palm he held out to me. The fingers were long, a bit thick, the hand overall a bit larger than my own. '_I graduated high school a semester early, and a bit after that I got into my accident. I've been recovering ever since.'_ I had to rewrite a couple words but Hide quickly got the gist of it.

"That's rough. What major were you thinking?"

This made me pause. In my other life I had been interested in the medical field before the science classes tore me to shreds. Since then I had considered business since you could go just about anywhere with a business major. I thought of Toki then, for some strange reason, and the sketch pad hidden away in a locked drawer. '_Art,'_ I replied after a moment. '_I think art. I don't know for sure.'_

"Ah, to know what you want! I have no idea." He sighed dramatically. "Kaneki's gonna be an Literature major, isn't that right?" Hide sat up in his seat and leaned forward, trying to get the boys attention. He was still staring out into space. "Hey, isn't there a guy named Nishitani in your department? I saw his girlfriend the other day…"

I tuned him out so I could watch Kaneki, trying not to be grossed out as he started to drool. His dark eyes were locked on the particularly plump legs of another waitress who was handing out fresh drinks and picking up an old round. I almost said something, get his attention, distract him, but… I didn't. I couldn't tell you why. It seemed rather pointless in my head, unnecessary. It didn't matter in the end considering Hide gave a whine about him not listening.

"I'm listening," he murmured, distracted and vague. "You got a girlfriend who looks like a pro wrestler. Congrats."

Hide protested loudly and dramatically with a 'yeah right' and I found that my smile wouldn't leave my face. It was like a weed. I could pull it out again and again but it always popped back up when I least expected it. I glanced out the window. Wasn't it depressing that I compared a smile to a weed?

Our waitress returned with a tray full of delicious smelling food and a smile on her face. I took my plate with an amused smirk. It was… different from what I was used to, considering that I was actually an American and had grown up on burgers. But I would eat it all the same, or at least try to eat as much as I could before Kaneki upchucked all over it. I was already swallowing my second bite when Hide spoke.

"Aren't you gonna eat?"

Kaneki jerked, looking pale, and mumbled something before picking up chopsticks to eat a small piece. He flinched while Hide eagerly proclaimed it's quality. I kept silent, focusing on trying to finish. Om nom nom and all that.

The black haired boy put down his chopsticks gently with a shaky hand. "Hide," he started slowly, "is your meat cooked okay?"

Hide didn't wait to swallow his food as he replied. "Huh? Yeah, mine's perfect! What, is something wrong with yours?" It sounded a bit more garbled than that, but then he swallowed and continued. "Is it underdone? Hard as a rock?"

I was at the halfway point. Go, Toki! Go! I took another bite and watched Kaneki from my peripheral vision as he eyed his next piece. It was a really good burger - I didn't want to waste it… I managed another bite before Kaneki made a loud noise of protest and puked up the meager bit he had been able to eat, the bile splattering across the table and the floor. I gave a quiet sigh as Hide shouted and attempted to wipe away the drops that had fallen onto his pants. I rubbed the sick teen's back with my palm.

When he stopped dry heaving I moved out of the seat and pulled him with me. Gently tugging him towards the restrooms, I brought him into the family bathroom and sat him down on the toilet before grabbing a handful of paper towels to dampen. When I turned back around he had tears streaming down his face.

It was heartbreaking to see him like this. I knelt down in front of him and gingerly wiped at his face, brushing back sweaty strands of hair and the gross liquid that clung stubbornly to his lips and chin. "I love Big Girl," he whispered, though for some reason I felt as if he was talking to himself rather than to me. "I love burgers. It… it tasted so… it tasted like pig intestines… gross, raw… I couldn't…" I rubbed a thumb under his eye to catch the falling liquid and observed the little droplet that rested on my thumb. Kaneki watched me with heavy eyes as I absently licked the tear up before resuming to pat at his face. I grabbed his hand with my free one.

'_Do you want to go home?'_ I asked. He fell forward and rested his forehead on my shoulder for a moment, heaving a deep sigh in an attempt to get his breathing under control.

"Yes, please," he murmured. I pushed him back gently and stood to throw away the towels before taking him by the arm. Hide was talking with a waitress when we reappeared and Kaneki quietly apologized before letting him know that I was going to take him back home. I tried not to feel too pleased when he made it relatively clear that Hide was not invited to come along. The blond told me how nice it was to meet me and that he would take care of the bill, very gentlemanly of him, before swiftly requesting I take good care of his best friend. My only response was a friendly wave as I escorted Kaneki out into the fresh air.

We were silent as we walked back to his apartment, both contemplating our own pile of crap. I wanted a drink more than ever, desperate to crawl back into bed to escape a situation I didn't really want to be in. But Kaneki needed me. I also loved spending time with him and wouldn't miss a chance to see him for just a little longer. He was my sun - he made me smile.

About half-way there I gave him my water bottle, which he accepted gratefully. If this was a normal illness I would have made him some broth to settle his stomach and get some heavy duty nyquil to knock him out until whatever illness he had would go away. But this wasn't normal and he was just hungry.

And despite the fact the idea was a little bit appealing, I wasn't going to be letting him take a bite out of me.

When we reached his apartment he unlocked the door and entered. I didn't give him a chance to shut the door on me, entering with quick strides. It looked very much like it did in the manga and anime - neat, lots of books. In a few hours it would probably be destroyed if I remembered correctly.

"Please, come in," Kaneki drawled sarcastically, a bit of sass in him that never really showed up in the series until he turned into white haired Kaneki. I had realized during our time together that it had always been there - it just didn't show up nearly as often. He was too busy having his life ruined to be sassy. I took my friends hand and began to walk around the apartment, stopping at the kitchen to get a towel and a plastic bag that I filled with ice. Then I took him to his room where I pushed him down on the bed and handed him the makeshift ice pack.

'_Stay,'_ I wrote in his hand. His only response was to grab his pillow and curl up on his side, staring at the wall blankly. I returned to the kitchen and searched for a glass which I filled with water, then perused the bookshelf he had in his living room. I didn't recognize any of the titles except for one or two, and I grabbed them to take back to my patient. He was still exactly where I left him.

I pushed the glass of water into his face, persisting until he obediently sat up to sip at it. I then dropped the books in his lap and crawled onto the bed beside him. Leaning against the wall I watched as he only glanced at me and then the books before back to me again. He pushed the books onto the floor, something that was most definitely not Kaneki like, and set his drink to the side before curling up again. I watched him for another moment before scooting over.

"Toki, don't," he muttered, eyes closed. I ignored him and scooted closer so I could put his head on my lap and run my fingers through his hair. He stiffened and gave an irritated huff but I continued to ignore him.

I wasn't doing it for him - I was entirely aware that he was uncomfortable. That he just wanted to be alone. He didn't want to be babied, and he wasn't used to it. Honestly? I just wanted an excuse to touch him.

We stayed like that for about an hour, me stroking his hair, him quietly musing. It was silent in his apartment until my phone gave a jingle, a text from Toki's mother politely asking for my whereabouts. I made a face, ignoring the message in favor of taking Kaneki's hand. '_I have to go. Drink more water. Try and get some rest.'_

He sat up, dark hair ruffled from my fingers. It was a cute look on him, I thought absently. His only response was a nod of his head. After staring for another moment I turned and left, figuring there was nothing else I could do. If my memory served me right then he would be running into Touka tonight and having another mental breakdown. As much as I would love to be there to pick up the pieces I had my own personal crisis to deal with.

Like the fact I was out of Malibu Rum.

No! No! Bad girl! I slapped my cheeks as I walked down the sidewalk. Liquor would do me no good.

Honestly, it was ridiculous that I had to drink in order to deal with a guy.

I never had to do that in my old life.

Well, I had never had to deal with guys in my old life.

I crouched down and put my head between my knees with a moan. The street was thankfully, though oddly, deserted and nobody was there to witness my internal deliberation. Honestly, I should just go over there and confront him. Not confront, talk. But it was _him_. One did not simply talk to Uta.

Really, the fact that he was bothering me so much pissed me off.

I gave a huff and started to stride towards the train station with a determined mental 'fuck it'. It was a familiar path, one I had taken a couple of times. Each time, though, I had hopped back onto the train and out of the fourth ward as fast as I could. Because fuck Uta, but _fuck Uta_. It made sense, didn't it? If I saw him that I would be able to get his voice out of my head?

The entire prospect of meeting terrified me. Not once in the entire series did we see what type of kagune he had. Bikaku? Rinkaku? We have no idea because he never needed to use it. Ever. He plowed through Aogiri Tree minions like a knife through warm butter. They weren't even worth his time. Strength? He had it in fucking spades. And to put some icing on the cake, he was smart. Ridiculously smart. Smart (and bored) enough to orchestrate this entire little game and ruin countless lives and at the end of it all to proclaim that he was _still bored_.

Why the hell did I think talking to him would be a good idea?

Why did I even _like_ him as a character?

I put my face in my hands and groaned as a list of reasons immediately popped up. He was just too damn _likeable_. And I was loyal, what could I say? So he indirectly caused the murder of the most precious cinnamon bun in the series, he was just too damn charismatic. Why couldn't I just be satisfied as Kaneki's friend and Anteiku's associates? Why risk it?

I don't know why I got on the train. I don't know why I got off the train. And I don't know why I stood outside HySy with my hand pushing the door open, peering into the dim shop with a sense of foreboding. I blame Uta because we fans blame him for everything. Me being deciding meeting him was almost worth dying? His fault. Me obsessing over the only four words he had ever said to me? His fault. Me sneezing? Most _definitely_ his fault.

The interior of the shop looked exactly how it had in the manga but with the anime's colors, masks hanging on the wall with small podiums holding mannequin torsos in the center. A couple had a sheet over them and no fucking way was I going to even go near them.

To my relief and frustration, Uta was nowhere in sight.

I went onwards, my curiosity and excitement overwhelming my fear though it was still tinged with caution. I brushed my fingers against a mask that I thought was made of porcelain - or something of the same texture and feel. Next to it was its twin, same material though mirrored in design. On the next podium was a mask that reminded me of Kaneki's, going over the mouth and made of a fine leather. To be honest I kind of forgot where I was and who exactly was lurking in the shadows. I was overwhelmed.

I had never been in a shop like this before, old life or new. A shop entirely dedicated to masks? The closest I had ever gotten was when my family had thrown a masquerade ball on New Years, and it had been a small glass case of options in a costume shop.

Understandably there was a need in this world for a shop like this. There was a consumer. Ghouls needed masks - they needed protection.

Wasn't it strange that it was the villain in the story who was the one who indirectly protected all ghouls?

I shook my head at the thought and moved over to the far side of the room, walking along the wall of masks. Uta used so many different mediums and there were so many different designs. Leather, paper maché, cotton, black, blue, red, white, even pink. My hands linked behind my back as I turned to observe a mask that looked as if it was made out of glass, boots silent as I walked backwards. There were slits for the eyes that reminded me of those fox masks and a smile that drew up to round cheeks. There was no way that it was made of glass, I thought. No way. I had once made a glass flower at the Renaissance Festival and they had an entire platform dedicated to the art. Did he have enough space for that kind of machinery?

A whush of air escaped my lips as my back collided with a covered podium that had been behind me, unseen with my backwards walking. I quickly whirled around as the mannequin beneath began to teeter, white sheet slipping off and to the ground, frantically stabilizing the stand with my hands and bracing my body. One more wobble and it settled and a silent sigh of relief escaped me. And then I realized what I was touching.

A grid like pattern with no holes for sight or breath. Hard with a strap to go around the head. Stitches.

Uta's mask.

Eyes wide I gently picked it up, not really comprehending what exactly I was doing, too absorbed in what I was seeing, holding in my hands. It didn't feel quite how I imagined with a canvas cover, scratchy against my fingertips but… nostalgic. I remembered this. It was almost like when I had seen Kaneki for the first time, a tingle in my memory, an absent minded wonder of where we had crossed paths before. But this time I knew.

"I'm sorry," a sweet voice murmured. "That isn't for sale."

I almost dropped the mask in my suprise, entire body lurching into motion as I flung myself away from the sound. My hand came to rest on the podium and it shifted under my weight, causing me to fall to the ground. I clutched the mask in my hands like some sort of lifeline as I gazed at the pale figure above me.

Like when we had first met, the first thing I noticed was the dorky sunglasses on his face. Why was he wearing them now? He was inside. I wished he would take them of.

And then I had the stunning revelation that I had just wanted to see his eyes.

And then I realized that I was looking at Uta and he was looking at me. The smallest of smiles graced a handsome, slightly feminine face. My eyes went from the mask in my hands and back to Uta. Mask. Uta. Mask. Uta. The man's smile widened and his head tilted to the side in a way that reminded me of Kaneki. Though I felt bad for ever comparing the two of them.

Because while Kaneki was my sun, Uta was the moon.

I had always found the moon more fascinating than the sun.

* * *

**updated 8/10/15**


	6. Chapter 6

"_Give a man a mask and he will show his true face._"

Oscar Wilde

* * *

He reached over with slim fingers and held out a palm to me, skin soft against my own, slowly helping me to a standing position. His mask was still in my grasp and I quickly relinquished it to him, arms jerking back to awkwardly hang at my sides. The man gave me a warm smile and a polite thanks as he returned it to the podium, placing it on the mannequin and covering it with the forgotten sheet. "How can I help you?" he asked.

I shrugged.

I fucking shrugged oh my _God_ I was so stupid. I waved frantically and vaguely at my throat in some awkward and most likely unclear message, sorry, can't talk, won't talk, um - I couldn't read his expression behind his glasses and my cheeks flared with color.

The physical aura of the ghoul before me was unbelievable. If I didn't already know what he was then I never would have even guessed. While the shop could be called creepy and the word used to describe the mask maker himself, being in his actual physical presence was… calming. He seemed like a sweet, kind, caring guy who had a love for body art. I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel anxious. I didn't feel anything except comfortable. Uta was the type of guy you just… automatically felt comfortable with. But I knew exactly what and who he was and I was supposed to be terrified.

I wasn't.

And _that_ was what frightened me.

Uta tilted his head to the side and his mouth dropped into an 'o', the movement so childish and unexpected that I couldn't help but grin. Which I hated.

Why did I come here?

Shaking my head and the smile away, I awkwardly gestured over my shoulder and started to bow apologetically, backing up, only to knock into the podium again. If I could have made a noise it would have been one of panicked aggravation mixed with a whine as I steadied the mannequin who shook beneath the sheet. I just needed to get out of here. This was a mistake. I couldn't forget who he was. Or _what_ he was.

Uta came back into my line of sight, waving a tattooed hand dismissively and despite myself I found that my eyes locked onto the black ink in an attempt to study the markings. Seriously, those tats were incredibly detailed. And extensive. Though he wore that silly black cardigan over a large v neck T-shirt I knew those tattoos ran up to his shoulders with other tattoos dotting his chest, waist, and back. And that he had some serious abs -

"Don't worry about that," he murmured as he lent a helping hand to steady the stand. "Happens all the time." A quirky sort of smile crossed his lips and again I wanted to see his eyes.

No, I really, _really_ didn't.

I rubbed my throat with a shaky hand and looked off to the side. This was entirely unsettling. My knowledge battled with the my feelings of safety. Half of me wanted to run out screaming because why the _fuck_ did I think I could handle Uta? The other half of me though… I wanted to stay. I wanted to study him. I wanted to talk to him.

I didn't handle confusion well, and I dug my phone out of my pocket and pulled up the notes app, quickly typing out a message and shoving the device into the man's face. He pulled back slightly in confusion before beginning to read. Though I quickly jerked it back to add another couple words before returning it to his line of sight. He raised a brow at me before continuing on.

'_Sorry, I lost my voice. Can't talk. And I'm not really here for any particular reason, I was just curious about your shop.'_ And then the added, '_It's amazing.'_

It only took him a moment to read and once he finished he gave me a dazzling smile. Honestly, it was beautiful - and I won't lie I totally had a fangirl moment. Crimson flooded my cheeks and I awkwardly pulled my phone away and to my chest.

"Thank you," he said and fuck him and his voice. "I'm sorry about your voice. Can I ask what happened?"

Oh no I was officially having a conversation with the man that was the ultimate reason behind my best friend's death. I typed a response beneath my other line. '_You can.'_

He tilted his head to the side when I didn't elaborate. "What happened?"

And a smirk crossed my face, an expression I wasn't quite use to making as I replied, '_Not telling.'_

He stared at me for a minute, shades hiding whatever his eyes may have expressed. And for a second I wondered if I was about to be eaten. Or just brutally murdered, who knew what he would do. It was Uta. But instead… he laughed. I actually physically jerked when he did I was so surprised. I expected his hands through my torso not this… laugh. It was a cute laugh.

_Bad Toki,_ I thought desperately. _Get it together!_ But the smile that grew on my face denied my furious internal screeching as I observed what little of his expression I could see.

Uta's smile never left his face as he shook his head. "You got me," he said easily.

'_Is that an accomplishment?'_

"I like to think so."

I found myself stepping closer, still grinning as I showed him my response. '_Do I get a prize?'_ His eyes were on me and it was almost like I was being touched - a shiver raced down my spine but I stood my ground. We were alone… in his shop… in a dangerous ward… I had no doubts he could kill me and get rid of any traces I had ever been here. This was it. This was my end. I was going to die -

And for some reason my next train of thought was if he had any food kinks. Food kinks being sex kinks. Meaning would he be the type of guy to enjoy covering his lover in blood and licking it off them? Any BDSM fetishes? Or -

I shoved the thoughts out of my head violently, not needing the mental images. I mean, it wasn't a bad mental image, it was just, y'know, not good to think such things in the presence of the subject being thought about. Thankfully the ghoul wasn't so insightful as to guess my thoughts and instead he was giving me a sly grin.

"How about a mask?" was his response. He tilted his head in a gesture for me to follow and I trotted after him obediently as he led me to the corner of the shop, hidden by a folding screen. He pulled out a stool for me to sit on and took a seat in his own swivel version, pushing himself with his legs to roll around me.

I sat down after a moment. I didn't want or need a mask - and I quickly typed out on my phone, '_I don't have any money for a mask.'_ It was a flat out lie. Toki had a decent sum in her bank account and another chunk in a account. Apparently she took commissions for portraits. Uta read the message with a lazy glance before proceeding to ignore it, rolling back to his desk to grab a tape measurer and his sketchbook, sticking a pencil behind his ear.

I frowned.

He started to hum a little tune, hand going up to wrap the instrument around my head. I stopped him with a finger, quickly drawing characters in his palm. '_Really, I don't have any money.'_ The mask maker stopped immediately, head twisting to observe our hands. Habit had let me forget that this wasn't Kaneki I was talking to and the finger rested against the rare unmarked skin of his palm. I went to draw my hand back only to stop as Uta pressed his pointer finger against my hand.

_'I didn't ask for money.'_

I stared, my mouth dropping open as my gaze shifted to his shaded eyes and the point where our skin met. Uta. Hands. Uta. Hands.

Nobody had ever done _that_ before and for some reason it shook me. Kaneki, Enji, Touka, and my parents always just... spoke back to me. They had never tried to communicate like I did. Admittedly my parents had encouraged me to learn JSL, or Japanese sign language, and had offered to get lessons for the family. My point was still the same though - I wrote in peoples hands. Nobody wrote in mine. It was a weird swap of roles and it made me uncomfortable. Not a bad uncomfortable though.

Of course it would be _Uta._

The man pulled his hand away with an apologetic grin. "I'm sorry," Uta murmured, and I found that was how he said most things. In a soft murmur, yet the words still distinct and clear. Only the tone changed, whether it be teasing, playful, or polite. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It was just an intriguing way of talking and I wanted to try it."

I tried to judge how sincere he was with his apology and to my irritation and seriously confused brain it seemed like he actually was sorry. I knew that Uta was an actor through and through, but… I took his hand in my own and tried not to let the limb shake as I replied, '_You didn't. Nobody has ever done that before is all.'_

And his grin was infectious, a small smile appearing on my own face as he took his turn, finger soft against my hand as he wrote, '_Do I get a prize?'_

I rolled my eyes as my grin grew, putting my hands on my lap and the original reason for my protests fading away. The tape measurer was cool against my forehead as he measured, chewing on his lip ring. I could hear the faint clinking as it hit his teeth but he didn't seem bothered. I caught myself staring at his lips and averted my gaze to his desk. It was cluttered to my surprise. For some reason I imagined Uta as a bit of a clean freak.

But then again, who _really_ knew Uta?

He grabbed his pencil and was scribbling across a fresh page in his sketchbook, hair dangling in front of his eyes. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose some and I could help myself from leaning forward, attempting to get a glimpse, a peek of red -

My phone began to ring and I jumped in my seat, sending the device skittering to the ground and over the tiles. Uta didn't even flinch, calmly intercepting my reach as he grabbed the singing phone to hand to me. Only when I slid the device from his grip did he seem to look back up at me, brow quirked. I tried not to feel irritated - he did that a lot and it was starting to bother me. What was there for him to quirk his brow at? What did quirk even mean?

He let out a small chuckle, seemingly at my clumsiness though God knows why he did anything. I shot him a look before glancing to my phone - my face twisted in displeasure automatically and I had to send Uta another disapproving look when his chuckle morphed into a laugh. "Someone you'd rather not talk to?" he guessed and I nodded my head.

Sliding my finger across the screen and putting it up to my ear I held up one finger in the silent request for… well, silence. He obeyed with a dramatic tilt of his head and returned to sketching.

"_Toki?"_ came the voice of mother dearest, her tone mixed with concern and irritation. I didn't reply, simply swinging my legs and taking the opportunity to observe the newly exposed skin of the mask maker as Uta pushed up his sleeves.

A sigh. "_I'm going to assume you're there,"_ she drawled. There was a definite pattern to the markings on his arms, the lines of ink varied in thickness. There were swirls and solid blocks. It must have taken ages to get them on. And how did it even work anyhow? Weren't ghouls' skin supposedly impenetrable? And most of them seem to have an incredible healing ability. Wouldn't the tattoos vanish after a while, if not immediately, since tattooing was technically an injury?

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line. "_Toki, we know that you've been having a hard time,"_ she started. "_And we've been trying to give you your space. But you need to respect the fact that when we tell you to come home, we mean that you need to come home."_

Uta was beginning to sketch a face - my face, I noticed as the pencil began to sculpt a pair of eyes. He took up the tape measurer again and slid it around my neck, starting up his humming again as he wrote down the numbers.

"_It's been…"_ A pause. "_Almost an hour after we told you to come home and you are nowhere to be seen. Big Girl isn't that far from home. Where are you? Are you still at lunch?"_ A pause for me to respond - I didn't - and the woman gave a low growl of frustration. "_Toki! Will you please just tell me where you are?"_ She continued on but I had pulled the phone away from my ear to send her a text. She was still going strong when I returned the device to my ear, and after a second I could hear a chime on her end of the line. She stopped mid sentence to read the text and when she spoke again she sounded entirely unamused. "_Shopping, Toki? Really?"_

The corners of my mouth tilted upward in a grin and I kicked my legs out, brushing against Uta as I did so. I immediately flinched and patted his knee apologetically, only to just as quickly retract my hand in horror at what I had done. For his part he didn't look at all bothered, gaze focused on his sketch.

"_Come home, Toki,"_ she said, a tone of finality and anger ringing through loud and clear. "_We're going to have a discussion when you get here."_ She hung up and I blinked at the device in my hand.

She hadn't ever sounded so angry before…

I heaved a sigh, the air rushing through my lungs as I opened up my notes again and wrote out a message, making to rise from my seat. I showed the glowing screen to Uta when he glanced up, noting how one end of his mouth curled up. "Going so soon?" he inquired. I gave another shrug in response, but smiled and tapped the sketch page with a finger before giving him a thumbs up. It was incomplete and I couldn't really see where he was going with it but I found myself intrigued despite my earlier thoughts. I didn't need a mask, and I still didn't want one - but my inner fangirl was desperate to see what Uta would come up with.

He glanced down at the page before looking back up to me. "I have some more measurements to make and some questions to ask. Will you be back?" Uta tilted his head to the side and I found that I couldn't say no - it would be rude, I reasoned. So I just smiled and nodded. And then I stared at him.

To be fair, he was staring at me too, and after a couple of seconds I snapped out of whatever evil voodoo trance he had put me under and stumbled backwards, waving goodbye in what must have been the most awkward fashion ever. I was almost out the door when he called me back. I turned to see him bent over in order to see me from behind the screen, looking (almost) cute as he tilted his head.

"I never got your name," he mused thoughtfully.

I balked and suddenly I wanted to bolt. Name? Name? Why would I want to give the villain in this fairy tale of mine my name? I hesitated a moment before tiptoeing my way to the ghoul, reaching out with a finger. He met me half way with his palm and I scribbled my name hastily. Then I turned and bolted, slipping out the door with a dusting of crimson on my cheeks.

It was only once I was on the train again that what had just happened really sunk in - and my whole body shook as I bit down hard on my palm. The palm he had written in.

I'd just had a conversation - no, I had just _flirted_ with Uta.

In what couldn't have been more than twenty minutes I had almost forgotten who he was.

And I didn't know what would happen if I ever went back.

* * *

Uta looked from his palm to the door which swung silently on its hinges. It closed with a click and he was once more alone in his shop. Nimble fingers pushed the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, allowing crimson and black eyes to stare after the departing human alight with something similar to curiosity.

He gave a hum as he leaned back, pencil twirling in his fingers. "Toki," he murmured, and he glanced towards the half completed sketch of the young woman, eyes focused on some unseen point. A smile crawled onto his face like a serpent in the grass.

"Interesting."

* * *

I wasn't sure how Toki managed it. Art, that is. She made her lines look so smooth and effortless, faces captured as if from a picture. My lines just looked like… well. They didn't look like hers, that was for sure. And to my utter frustration they didn't look like Uta's either. Not that I wanted it to look like Uta's but the point was the same. Muscle memory was failing me much to my irritation and I chewed my lips to ribbons focusing on getting the eyes even. How the hell did they do it?

Dr. Kamon heaved a mighty sigh. "Toki."

Really, though, how did they do it? One eye always came out lopsided whenever I tried. I read somewhere that drawing it upside down helped but it just made it worse. They never looked the same. I flipped the pencil in my hand to erase at a rebellious line of lead and brushed off the white eraser pieces.

"Toki, are you listening to me?"

No, I thought as I dragged the pencil slowly from one end of the eye to the other. I'm not listening because the only thing that comes out of your mouth is crap. A couple flicks of the pencil made the eyelashes and I held out the sketchbook to critique my work. I wasn't actually half bad. I had never bothered with drawing in my previous life - science had been what had interested me and art and science didn't really mix. My sister had been the artistic one, though that had been music, an entirely different type of art. Now that I think about it I don't think there were any drawing artists in my family. The closest would have to be my aunt, who knitted. Maybe I should try knitting?

I had always been the most creative though, a title I wore proudly. Stories, tall tales, and roundabout ways of doing simple things were my specialty. Though right about now I wished there were a creative way to draw eyes that looked at least vaguely the same.

The good doctor rubbed his face with one hand, his eyes closed in a tight squint as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Most of our meetings went like this - starting off with prep and cheer and words about how eager he was to help 'heal' me before quickly realizing that I had no interest in anything he had to say. At all, whatsoever, period. I really didn't. I didn't need any help from him or his meds or his stupid notebook, which lay between us untouched. Honestly, I knew more about his field than he seemed to.

In our first few meetings since my hospital release he'd remained persistent, pursuing his goal with an optimistic persona. He'd been quite irritated with my emails though - apparently cussing him out wasn't what I was supposed to be doing. I'd stubbornly bring things to occupy my attention so I didn't have to listen to his nonsense. This time it was Toki's sketch book, now mine (visiting Uta the other day had inspired me, so he was to blame for my atrocious attempts at art). Dr. Kamon's patience was wearing thin though and now his optimism only lasted a couple of minutes at the most before he devolved into disgruntled sighs and probing questions. It seemed his goal near the end of our sessions was to get me to pay attention to him or to react, which I happily refused to do.

I wondered if he would snap at me - scream, cry, freak out. Any or all of the above would have been fascinating to watch. While Dr. Kamon was a decent guy who I honestly believed wanted to help me, I didn't like him. At all. And I didn't need any help. That anxiety depression bullshit was just that. Bullshit. I pulled the sketch book back in and started on the hair. Now, hair was a bitch and a half to draw and infuriated me even more than the eyes did. Seriously, how do you draw it without making the person look like their skull was deformed?

"Who is Kaneki Ken?"

The pencil lead snapped and rolled off the page and onto the floor. My head jerked up to peer at the man, whose expression had morphed into a triumphant smirk. My own mouth twisted into a frown, though it was more in displeasure that I had reacted than the question itself. But it did post the question - how did he know about Kaneki?

The man scribbled something onto the notepad on his lap. "You always tend to react to surprise questions," he murmured to himself in a pleased tone and I resisted the urge to growl at him or do something obscene. Dr. Kamon looked back up and folded his fingers together. "Who is he?" he pressed. "Classmate? Friend? Boyfriend?"

I stubbornly went back to my sketchbook and decided that my next picture would be of my good doctor hanging. Creative license, y'know? The subtle tremors started in my palm and the lines were all crooked now. I clasped the offending wrist firmly to make the shaking stop. I glared at the limb as if it had personally offended me, which it had. It was just withdrawals from something. Or a cramp.

"Does my asking about him make you anxious?" It was _not _anxiety. Which is of course he would see. My glare moved to him only to watch as he scribbled down another note. I wanted to throw the fountain on the table at his head. Maybe violent ghoul tendencies were rubbing off on me. "Does my knowing about him make you uncomfortable? Do you not want me to know about him?" I looked away. More scribbling, this time with an eager expression. _We're getting somewhere,_ he must be thinking, and I couldn't have him thinking anything so positive.

It must have been my parents. Toki's parents. Whatever. They must have told him about Kaneki - though how did they know? He'd never come over (not that I really had time to invite him giving the plot progression) and I'd never mentioned him to them. They had never even seen him before. How? I gritted my teeth and forced my gaze and focus back to my drawing. _Don't give him the satisfaction. _But he was still talking, pressing, and when he saw that he had once again lost my interest Dr. Kamon brought up a new subject.

He tapped his pen against the page. "Does he live in the 4th ward?"

I stiffened once move and my glare turned to a glower, hateful and furious. Once - I had visited HySy once! Well, I had visited it multiple times before but I had only actually gone _inside_ the shop once. There was no way he could no about that - no fucking way… Unless my parents had told him. But my parents didn't know either. They had no way to know -

My phone, I thought with sudden clarity, glancing at the offending object where it lay innocently in my bag. They must have been tracking me with my phone. And considering they were the bill payers for the family phone plan it wouldn't be too hard for them to pull up my text history.

Fuck.

I fisted my hands in the fabric of my skirt, trying to reign in my anger. It didn't really occur to me right now I was overreacting because as far as I was concerned, I was most _definitely_ over the legal age. I'd been living on my own since I was 19 for crying out loud! This... this… micromanaging was _infuriating,_ especially since I hadn't actually done anything wrong. So what if I had stayed out a little late? It wasn't like I didn't come home. And maybe I didn't tell them where I had been or where I was going but I was always fine at the end of the day! I did my chores, I went to my therapy sessions. And I tried to associate with them. I didn't flinch anymore when my parents hugged me and I was talking to them, at least.

The other half of the argument didn't really occur to me. I didn't give Toki's parents the benefit of considering how it looked to them - their precious, perfect daughter suddenly behaving entirely out of character. Staying out late and disappearing for hours on end, not telling them where she was going and refusing to talk to them in general.

I didn't give a shit. As far as I was concerned, I was a fully-grown adult and didn't need them sticking their nose where it didn't belong.

The shaking of my hands had increased by this point into full blown tremors, my body trembling in what I refused to acknowledge as anxiety. I stood up abruptly and began to pack up my things, shoving my sketchbook back into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. Dr. Kamon began to voice his protests, claiming that we still had another twenty minutes, but I was _done_. My teeth were chattering and if I didn't get the fuck out of there I would be a quivering mess for hours to come. I slammed every door between his office and the outside world and forced the energy my body expended to shake into my legs, sprinting down the sidewalk and ignoring the curious and judging looks sent my way.

When my limbs felt like jello and my breath came hard from my lips I found an alley and crashed into the wall, whimpering at the sting in my palms and immediately mourning my actions. Every limb rattled but this time it was from exhaustion and physical exertion. I turned my back to the bricks and slid down before putting my head between my knees and breathing deeply - but I couldn't get air all the way into my lungs and I forced the air to come in and out through my nose.

Toki's dad wouldn't be there for another half an hour to pick me up. I could just walk home, but that would require me informing the parental unit that I had left my session early, which would open up a whole can of 'why' and 'you need your therapy'. Considering the raw betrayal that sung in my blood, begging for some type of petty vengeance, talking to them would be a bad idea.

It took me a minute or two to get my breathing under control and when I finally did I let out a huge whoosh of air in a loud sigh. I pulled my phone out of my bag and glared at it for a minute.

_Bad phone_, I thought half-heartedly, though I was already flipping it open to see if I had any messages.

Nothing.

I snarled as I shoved it back into my bag. It had been two days since I had left Kaneki at his house and I hadn't heard a word from him. Nothing. At all. Some small part of me was comforted with the knowledge that Hide wasn't hearing from him either, but the rest of me was pissed that I was even on Hide's level. Not responding to my text messages was just _rude_.

He must have seen Touka. Hell, he had _definitely_ met with Touka. That was the only explanation. I let out a hard breath through my nose and picked up my phone again, only to jump about a mile into the air when it gave a cheerful chirp.

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_Hey! It's Hide, we met at Big Girl a couple of days ago. Have you heard from Kaneki? He hasn't been to classes and he isn't answering my calls._

I could help but glower at the mobile device in fury. How the _hell _did Hide get my number? I had never given it to him, and I could guarantee that Kaneki hadn't. Seriously, these invasions of my privacy were pissing me off.

To: Unknown

From: Aibu Toki

_No I haven't heard from him - Where did you get my number?_

The reply was almost exactly a minute later.

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_Magic._

I stared at the single word. Hide was a sweetheart and I loved him dearly in the manga - real life Hide? Wrong time to try and be cute. Perhaps he sensed this for another response came a couple of seconds later.

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_I'm just kidding - I got it from Kaneki's phone when he wasn't looking. Just in case of emergencies, y'know?_

To: Unknown

From: Aibu Toki

_It's fine. But he hasn't talked to me. Let me know if he replies to you._

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_No problem! You'll be the first to know._

I tossed the phone onto my bag and relaxed against the brick wall, shutting my eyes tight as if it would ease the growing headache. That growing headache was unfortunately called 'worry', AKA concern. I tried to focus on other things - like the fact I wanted to punch someone in the face. Specifically Mr. and Mrs. Aibu, but considering they were my food and shelter that seemed like a bit of a bad idea. And also a terrible train of thought to follow.

I also wanted to see if Toki's father had replenished his shockingly dismal supply of tequila. Really, it was terrible. I still hadn't quite figured out if he was American or European but regardless it is a downright shame to not have at least two good bottles laying about for consumption. He had a decent amount of vodka but vodka had never really been my favorite of liquors. I gave a vicious shake of my head and patted at my cheeks. Thinking about alcohol only made me want it more and I had been a good girl the last two nights and hadn't had a single drop.

The cars - I still hadn't checked the cars in the garage to see if any of them were stick shift.

I'd refused to drive anything other than a stick shift after my father taught me how to drive our 6 speed Mustang V6 in my last life. Driving just wasn't fun unless it was manual. There was something exciting about the extra level of control you had over the vehicle, and the ability to rev up the engine and the harmony between the gas, the clutch, and the break. There was nothing better than a manual. It was simply better.

Well, that and it was damn impressive to just about everyone else I knew. One of my fondest memories was when a coworker of mine who, upon realizing that I not only had a stick shift but knew how to drive one, had quickly and without shame informed me that I had just gotten at least twice as attractive. I had considered it a compliment. I still considered it the nicest compliment anyone had ever given me.

I rolled my head on my shoulders and shimmied back up the wall, brushing my hands over my butt and back to try and get whatever might have collected there from the wall. It was as I was grabbing my purse again that my phone chirped at me twice. Probably the dad I figured to myself and when I slid the lock screen open I was greeted with a small message informing me of his arrival. But there was also another text from Hide.

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear! I just got off the phone with him, told me to come over and drop off my Asian History notes. Wanna meet up at his place?_

I blinked at the invitation and before I even realized what I was doing I found myself striding down the sidewalk in the vague direction I knew Kaneki to live. The finding a bus would be obnoxious as fuck and my limbs felt unpleasantly like jelly (very different to the buzzed noodle-like feeling) but I had an excuse to invade Kaneki's private life and insert myself smack dab in the middle of things, which was much more exciting than whatever conversation I might or might not have with my father.

Or an argument, I retconned as my phone rang shrilly a minute later. I turned it off and looked around for a bus station, noting the convenient presence of the actual bus itself. The sun was falling towards the horizon and I was honestly lucky - the buses would probably stop running sometime. I hated buses because of the sporadic hours. I jogged to the back door and swung myself inside, nabbing a ticket from the machine and taking a seat. Soon enough I was waving my fingers at Hide outside of Kaneki's apartment, the sun gone and the stars beginning to peak out. We walked up the stairs together and Hide knocked on the door.

Silence.

No response.

I tip toed over to look inside the window while Hide knocked again, calling out his name. I couldn't see anyone inside, and after a moment Hide made a noise of confusion.

"He told me to come over with the notes…" he murmured as he scratched the back of his head. "I'm sorry I called you over here for him to not be home."

I scribbled in his palm, '_It's okay.'_ I dropped my bag down onto the ground and continued. '_You can leave the notes with me. I'm going to wait for him.'_

"Really?" he asked, blinking at me in surprise. I plopped myself onto the ground, carefully adjusting my skirt. The boy looked at me with something I related to fascination. "Well, alright… Text me when he gets home? This isn't like him." He shook his head and handed me a folder which I tucked between my back and the wall, waving him off as he turned to leave.

I couldn't remember what was happening as of right now - and to be honest it worried me. I chewed on my lower lip as I stared up at the small expanse of sky available to me. The lights prevented the stars from being fully exposed, not to mention whatever pollution was up there, but the thought that they were shining down on me helped a little. I amused myself by trying to remember as many constellations as I could.

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember is blinking up at a salivating Kaneki.

One eye was a vibrant red.

* * *

**updated 8/10/15**


	7. Chapter 7

"_What comes easy won't last,_

_What lasts won't come easy._"

Unknown

* * *

The red was like fire, burning and twisting and shimmering, igniting an instinctual fear in my belly as he stared down at me. His hands fisted in his pockets and he managed to get out a strangled, "What are you doing here?" One hand was loosened and went up to his mouth as he stared down at me.

I pressed my back against the wall and scooted myself up, picking up the folder behind me as I went and held it out to him. But not all the way, cautious, nervous, especially as I noted the drool collecting on his hand. He ignored the extended folder in favor of moving past me to unlock his door, key scratching against the knob in an attempt to slide home. "Leave," he pleaded, though he attempted to make it come across as an order.

I shook my head, not that he was looking at me, and when he continued to fail to unlock the door I reached to take the key from his hand to help. But he jerked back suddenly, something like a muffled scream erupting from his throat. The keys fell to the ground. Our eyes locked and as if suddenly realizing that one eye was a vicious red a hand slapped over it and he began to pant. "Please leave, now," he begged.

I ignored him in favor of scooping up the keys from the ground and unlocking the door. Kaneki rushed through the opening and immediately turned to try and slam the door shut but I had already slipped inside, starting to kick off my shoes. I didn't expect his hands on my shoulders shoving me hard into the wall and pressing me there with fingers digging into my skin. I winced.

"Why won't you leave?!" he cried. "Please, just go! Go! Why do you _never listen?!_"

I frantically reached my hand up to push his own away but he held me firmly. I was sure if I pulled up the sleeves of my jacket there would be fine imprints of his fingers. He was scaring me - the eye was unnerving and drool was still collecting in the corners of his mouth, dripping down his chin. I didn't think he would hurt me though - This was Kaneki. He couldn't - he would never - I just had to calm him down. I had to get him to stop panicking. My terrified pushing stopped briefly when he froze and for a second I thought that perhaps he was going to let me go. But then he took in a deep breath. "Meat…" he murmured, his gaze locked onto the flesh of my neck. "Meat."

No, no, no, no, no. My struggles resumed as he leaned forward. "Just a bite - only human, just a nibble, I'm _so hungry._" He wouldn't - I pushed at him harder, eyes wide, mouth opening cause maybe I could tell him to stop - he surged forward and dug his teeth into the junction between my neck and shoulder. A muffled scream surged out of my throat, unbidden, painful, and I brought my hands up to his head, hitting him hard on the temple. I could feel as he worked his jaw against my skin and the drag of his tongue over my flesh, slimy and wet as his saliva mixed with my blood and dribbled down my chest. It took only a couple hits for him to let go with a gasp, eyes wide, blood falling down his chin in rivulets. "No, no no no no no no no," he chanted, words slurring together, even as his hands went up to his mouth to scoop up the blood, _my_ blood, and falling against his tongue.

Again I slid down the wall, hand going to my bleeding neck. "Toki," he pleaded, falling onto his knees. "Oh my god, Toki, are you - oh my god." His hands then went to me, trying to help I'm sure but I flailed away from him, falling to my side. I kicked out at him weakly. My blood was warm against my skin and soaking into the fabric of my clothes, seeping between my fingers. I don't think he took out a chunk - but I could feel the ridges and dips from where his teeth had sunk into the flesh.

He had _bitten me_.

Kaneki had bitten me.

My best friend, Kaneki, my sun, had just bitten me and - What was I suppose to do? I curled up into myself and quaked for a minute, trying not to be too grossed out as blood began to drip across my neck. It reminded me of that time, the plane, the flames, I still had the dreams as engines wailed and people screamed and the smell of burning -

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Toki, Toki," Kaneki continued, my name like a prayer as he collapsed on the wall opposite me. I couldn't bring myself to move, to look at him, to open my eyes and face what had just happened. It fucking hurt and I imagined what it must look like to an outsider, mangled and bloody - this wasn't just a scratch.

Given the location and the amount of blood I would most likely need to go to a hospital to get antibiotics and stitches. The human mouth was full of bacteria and the chances of an infection were huge - leaving it untreated was just asking for trouble. I knew for certain that this would scar though that didn't really bother me too much. It would bother Kaneki though. A permanent reminder of his lack of control, that he was a ghoul. He would see it and he would feel like shit. No, no, focus on the clinical aspect of things, stitches would help to close the wound but I couldn't go to a hospital with a wound like this. Too many questions and too much of a risk. I couldn't let anything lead the CCG to Kaneki.

I ground my teeth together. This was my fault - god, I was so stupid. I forced myself to slow my breathing, air rushing through my nose.

This was _exactly_ why I had never wanted to befriend him. I just _knew_ this was what would happen - I overestimate just what I'm worth, what I'm capable of, and in the end I get hurt and things get fucked up. Physically or emotionally, it varies. I opened my eyes to see the shaking form of the half-ghoul, of Kaneki, and I managed to drag myself into a seated position against the wall. He didn't look at me though, only stared at his pink stained hands. Pink with my blood. The sound of ripping metal and whining engines echoed in my head as I gathered my courage to kick out at him.

The kick didn't hit and he ignored the sound of my shifting, eyes wide with terror. I did my best not to let it seep into my pores because I couldn't be afraid now. Kaneki needed me. And to be honest I needed him too - the blood was still seeping between my fingers and staining my shirt and jacket. I would need him to help me patch it up and we couldn't do that until Kaneki finished his mental break down and I got over this stupid fear boiling in my stomach.

I kicked out at him again, this time making contact as the foot landed against his shin and prompted him to look up at me with watery eyes. I held out my hand, the one not soaked in my blood, and motioned him closer. He didn't move, shaking his head desperately. So I began to struggle with my unoccupied arm, dragging myself towards him. But when I began to slowly inch forwards he immediately moved to stop me. "Don't move, don't - don't," he whispered, hand finding mine, the other hovering over my wound as if to help me stop the blood flow. But he didn't touch it. Other than our joined hands he didn't move to touch me.

'_It's okay,' _I wrote shakily, having to repeat it a couple times before he managed to understand. He shook his head, rocking back and forth on his knees as he sniffled. Red veins were still reaching from his eye like branches, pulsating and glowing as he struggled not to watch the blood dripping from the wound.

Staring at him and his reaction I found it hard to stay upset. I knew he didn't mean to hurt me. I knew that it was an accident. Just like I knew he was sorry - and this wasn't his fault. It was mine.

I was so stupid. I knew how he was and how he suffered through realizing what he had become. I knew he hadn't been eating, that he was unstable, that he craved human flesh. And what do I do? Just jump right in front of his face. It would have been the equivalent of a juicy steak parading about in front of a starving man. He had asked me to leave and I hadn't.

I was hurting him.

I carefully lifted my hand off my neck, avoiding looking at the wound though the action made me flinch in pain. My hand was thoroughly soaked in blood, and as my gaze flickered between the stained fingers and my friends face, an idea came to mind - crazy, stupid, but… maybe it would help. Might as well. I watched Kaneki's face as I pressed the bloodied fingers to his lips.

"No!" he shouted, pulling away. But I interlocked the fingers of our joined hands and managed to keep him somewhat in place. "Stop, stop, stop," he pleaded, pushing, whining, but each time he opened his mouth I snuck my fingers in, dragging them against his tongue. His chin, already stained once again became crimson as he turned his head this way and that to avoid my probing fingers.

'_It's okay,'_ I wrote. I scribbled the characters into his palm again and again, and after a solid minute of furtive resistance his resolve seemed to crumble, mouth opening and closing, body relaxing until he untangled his hand from my own to pull the bloodied limb closer, tongue sucking up every drop. The muscle was warm and wet against my skin. I watched as it darted between my fingers, Kaneki giving the occasional moans and mumbled protests, but he didn't stop. When my hand was clean I struggled to move the hood of my jacket and pull down the stained collar of the t-shirt beneath, exposing the wound to him.

It was beginning to clot from the pressure I had applied to it but continued to leak, lamely pulsing rivulets of blood down my skin. His eyes locked onto the mess immediately even as he began to shake his head. Protests and whines rose from his throat once more and he started to pull away but I held tight onto his shirt.

"No!" and he shoved himself away from me hard to hit his back against the other wall. "No, I - I'm not a monster! I'm human! I can't - I can't do that - I can't -" he dissolved into a blubbering mess. I watched as the tears made tracks down his cheeks and sighed. When I made my way towards him this time he didn't make a move to stop me. I kneeled beside him and took his hand in my own. But I suddenly found myself struggling with what to say.

You aren't a monster? You're still you? I'm not scared? I couldn't think of anything I could say that would make him feel better because there was nothing that could possibly do that. '_Do you feel better?'_ When he didn't answer I asked again, prompting a response with a poke to his shoulder.

"What... do you mean?"

'_The hunger - is it better?'_ His lack of a response was telling enough and I maneuvered myself in front of him, straddling one of his outstretched legs as I pulled my collar down again. '_If it helps then-' _and I stopped. A pause where he looked up at me with such sad eyes and I deflated. '_I want to help. I'm not using it anymore, might as well let you have it. Just don't take a chunk out.'_ I paused as I stared at him, forcing myself not to shake as his gaze drifted between my eyes and my neck. I had to look like it was nothing - like my heart wasn't fluttering at a million miles an hour, that I wasn't terrified he would lose it again, that it truly was okay. I lifted my hand to his cheek and stroked the soft skin with a thumb. A weak smile fitted itself on my lips because didn't I not say just a couple of days ago how I was too selfish to do something like this?

He was much less resistant as I pulled his head towards my shoulder, mumbling weak protests against my skin before his lips pulled on the wound, sucking. In any other situation having Kaneki sucking on my neck would have been really, _really_ hot. Hell, the thought of it alone is incredibly erotic. But as the friction of his mouth heated my skin and his tongue probed the grooves his teeth had created I only found the experience painful. Painful and rather disgusting. I wanted a shower.

I distracted myself by playing with the dark hair at the nape of his neck, twirling the strands between my fingers and tugging softly, occasionally pulling hard with my hand when he got too rough. One of his hands was on my waist while the other held my upper arm, keeping me in place. His hands kneaded my skin like a kitten nursing from its mother. A simile that I found more amusing than anything.

Didn't Touka do something like this with Kaneki later on? My eyes drifted to the ceiling as I desperately tried to distract myself. Yeah, it was when they were fighting Tsukiyama. God, was I going to meet Tsukiyama? Did I _want_ to meet Tsukiyama?

That would be terrible. And fun. I liked him but that was as a third party observer who didn't have to deal with any of his shit. Tsukiyama was originally known as the trash king for a reason - because he was a giant piece of shit. But then once everyone realized that he was actually-supposedly about as gay as could be for Kaneki the tides turned. I myself am still a bit unsure if he _really_ liked Kaneki in that way, but since I was apparently going to (hopefully) live through it perhaps I could figure it out for myself.

Kaneki's tongue glided away from the wound to suck up the drops that had fallen before returning to drag his mouth over the mark again. I turned my head away and let my eyelids drift shut as a bone deep exhaustion settled over me. If memory served me correctly fatigue and other minor symptoms of blood loss were experienced once 15% of total blood in the body had been lost. I wasn't a doctor but I didn't think I had lost _that_ much - regardless I found my body relaxing against Kaneki and drifting off to some sort of half conscious state.

It got really awkward really fast, however, when Kaneki pulled himself back, the back of his head resting against the wall as he panted. His face was smeared red and his tongue darted out to clean his chin and lips. His hands fell limply to his sides as he tried to catch his breath, eyes peeking out beneath his lashes as he stared into space.

It was relaxing for a moment, both of us seemingly tired and resting close together. I could feel his heartbeat through his chest which pressed against my own and the rhythm, though a bit fast, was steady and soothing. My own lids fluttered as I sighed and shifted closer to him - he radiated heat while my own limbs seemed heavy and numb. He had always radiated heat though, hadn't he? Kaneki was my sun.

All too soon the peace was gone as he opened his eyes and remembered where he was, what had happened, and who was sprawled over him like a rag doll. "Toki," he stuttered. I kept my eyes closed, content to rest my cheek against his neck and sleep away the fatigue that plagued me. "T-Toki, are you - are you okay? Toki?" His fingers brushed my arm before gripping it, giving me a small shake. His voice was a bit panicked and I nudged his head with my own.

He started to move, carefully setting me down on the floor before he stood and darted away. I missed the warmth and was debating opening my eyes to see where he had gone when Kaneki was already back at my side, setting something down beside me. He fiddled with it, whatever it was, before something splashed hot and acidic against my skin.

A muffled shout escaped my lips and I jerked away. Eyes opened to see him with a bottle of what I assumed was hydrogen peroxide and a clothe, a small white first aid kit at his knees. "Don't move," he murmured. His hand went to my uninjured shoulder to hold me in place. I watched as he went to pour more over the wound before cleaning up the excess with the clothe. "It's… deep." He dabbed at it with gentle fingers. "We should - You should go to - I -"

I dragged my hand across the floor to rest on his thigh, eyes closing once again as I wrote, '_Just patch it up.'_

"But -"

'_Don't worry about it. You're okay.'_

He scoffed though his voice shook. "Of course I'm okay," was the grumbled response. "But you're hurt, I _hurt you_, God, I'm so sorry Toki," and he continued his whining as he placed a pad of gauze over the injury and taped it down. When he finished he put one arm under my legs and another around my shoulders, carefully lifting me and carrying me off to his bedroom where he laid me down on the bed. "I'll get you some water -"

I grabbed his hand. '_Is a liger a tiger or a lion?'_

Kaneki paused. "What?" I repeated my gestures and after a moment the teen shook his head. "I… It's both?"

I was really tired - I wanted to sleep. The bed beneath me smelled comfortingly like my friend and I turned my head to press my face against the pillow. I had to say this though, had to get the words out before I forgot them. '_It isn't either of them, yet it is both of them.'_ I paused for a second to gather my letters, my thoughts. It was getting harder. '_You are like a liger - not a human, not a ghoul, but also both.'_ My eyes wouldn't open. I wanted to look and see the expression on his face. His eyes always gave away what he was thinking. Were my words making sense? Was I getting to him? Was I even suppose to know that he was a half-ghoul thing? My brain was in exhausted shambles and I couldn't quite recall what I should and shouldn't know. Fuck it. '_Besides, I don't think you are a ghoul at all.'_

The response was immediate and slightly hysteric, a high-pitched giggle followed by harsh words in a slightly raised voice. "Oh, really? What am I then, Toki? What?"

'_I think you're Kaneki Ken. My best friend.'_

He had no response to that but his hand wrapped around my own in a desperate grip. I pulled our twined hands to my chest and curled up into a ball on my side, pressing my lips to his skin absently. I thought I might have wrote the word 'tired' in his palm but I couldn't quite recall. I do remember him slowly untangling himself and draping a blanket over me. I also remember a loud crash in his kitchen, and I dreamed of falling out of his bed when I heard him retching. He did wake me up to tell me he was going out. But I didn't wake up on his return.

The next time I woke up was to his hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently in the last hours of the morning. "Toki," he said quietly, lips by my ear. I blinked up at him wearily, noting a spot of blood by his mouth. Was that mine? He kept talking but I was distracted by how shitty he looked - bags under his eyes and what looked like a fading bruise against his cheek. Was that because of me? My hand went to the injury but Kaneki grabbed it before I could make contact. "Toki, did you hear me?"

I blinked and shook my head. I was still tired. "You're parents are here."

_That_ got my attention. I shot up out of his bed, blanket falling to my waist and hissed as the movement jostled my shoulder. Kaneki's hand immediately recoiled as though he had been burned. We stared at each other for a moment in silence, eyes locked. I almost felt as if we had done something forbidden and intimate and now that the moment had passed we were strangers - I hated the feeling. I moved first, head turning to observe my stained shirt and jacket. The ghoul seemed to recognize my plight and moved to his closet, pulling out a zip up hoodie and tossing it to me.

"You can borrow that," he said quietly. A splash of carmine colored his cheeks as I began to swap jackets, throwing mine to the corner of his bed and slipping into his. I zipped it all the way up and threw the hood over my head, double checking to make sure the stains and the gauze, which needed changing, were hidden. Shooting Kaneki a somber grin I stood up, careful as my legs wobbled, grabbing my bag which had been placed next to the bed and heading towards the door.

The grin slipped off my face as I entered the hallway, where they stood just inside the door with a police officer - something Kaneki obviously failed to mention. Kaneki followed behind me and I wanted to grab his hand for comfort. I just wanted to touch him again, greedy for some sort of reassurance that everything was okay. But I could feel the hard stares of the men and the furious glower of the woman and I didn't dare make a move to touch him. My chest burned and my stomach was turbulent with anxiety as I forced myself onwards. I didn't look at them, slipping on my shoes and pushing my way out the door.

"Toki -" That was the mother talking. I ignored her as I began to trot down the stairs, prompting her to repeat my name with an enraged undertone. But she wouldn't do anything - not in front of Kaneki, a stranger.

They were parked along the street, the cops car just a little bit behind them. I slid into the backseat without a sound, only then glancing up through the protection of the tinted windows to watch my parents talk to an exhausted Kaneki, the cop silent though he observed with a disapproving air. After a minute or two Toki's father shook hands with Kaneki and began to come down the stairs, the cop following along with Toki's mom. They didn't say a word as they got in the car, starting the engine and pulling away. Kaneki vanished into his apartment after giving a shy wave, which I returned - though I doubt he saw.

It only took a couple minutes for the dam to break. It was, predictably, Toki's mother.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" was the start of her rant. The woman whirled around in her seat, eyes fierce and furious as she glowered at me. "You - you - do you even think? Did you think _at all?_ We were worried sick about you! You just up and vanish from your meeting, your phone was off and we couldn't get a hold of you, we had _no_ idea where you were -"

"Akane," Toki's father said quietly, and the woman's face whipped towards him instead, scowl contorting her normally pretty features.

"Oh, so you're okay with it, aren't you, Elliot? Hmm? Just going off on her own, not calling home, staying at some random boys house! She -"

"_Akane,_" he said again, firmly, and her jaw clicked shut with an infuriated snap, settling back into her seat to glare out the window.

I found myself blinking, gaze darting between the two of them with a sort of newfound wonder. Akane? Elliot?

Were those their names?

Huh.

I looked out the window, strands of hair falling forward like a curtain as I blinked at the world passing by.

I had never bothered learning their names.

The rest of the drive was blissfully silent, Toki's parents quiet. I felt no urge to break the heavy atmosphere, pricked by the sliver of guilt that plagued my mind. We arrived at the house what felt like hours later and I jumped from the vehicle before he had even stopped, halting only when Toki's father (Elliott) gave a brisk command.

He had never talked to me like that - and I found I obeyed despite myself, lips curling into a pathetic sneer. I waited until he was ahead of me and I followed him with Toki's mother (Akane) bringing up the rear as if to trap me, prevent me from escaping. We went into the house like a morbid funeral procession and with a wave of his arm Toki's father (_Elliott_) sent me up the stairs. Toki's mother (_Akane_) vehemently protested but I was already moving, darting up the steps and into the sanctity of my (Toki's) room. The door rebounded with my slam, ringing in harmony with the flurry of shouting that began downstairs.

I managed to sit still on the edge of my bed for maybe five minutes before the urge to flee overwhelmed me. I had to get out. I couldn't stand the screaming. I went to the window, sliding it open and peering at the bushes below. I wasn't at all confident in the drop or the strength of my bones and returned to my bed, ripping off the blankets to pull off the sheets beneath, tying the ends together before dragging the desk closer to the window.

I had always wanted to do this.

I tied off the length of makeshift rope to the leg of the desk and began to crawl out the window. The desk creaked slightly but the idea of it being heard was almost laughable. Toki's mother (_Akane, her name is Akane_) was only just beginning her rampage and even as I scaled down the wall I could hear a crash as something broke. I dropped the last couple of feet, stumbled over the brush and flowers, managed to walk calmly to the door, open it, close it behind me -

And then I was running.

Sprinting.

_Get away get away get away get away I don't want to care anymore._

I don't want to care.

_I didn't want to care from the beginning._

Go away.

The hood fell from my head as I pumped my arms and legs, desperate to get that feeling out, desperate to get away, desperate to forget, desperate, desperate, desperate -

_I miss my mom._

_I miss my dad._

_I miss my sister._

_I miss my dog, and my books, my bed._

_I miss home._

My feet slipped from beneath me as I made to turn, sending me tumbling across the hard cement, palms scraped and bleeding, knees and limbs aching, I got up and continued to run, run, run, run away from my problems like I always did, because I am a coward and I always was and always will and -

_I want Kaneki to smile at me._

A choked noise escaped my throat.

_I want Enji to make me my coffee just how I like it._

_I want Touka to whine about me coming to Antieku so often._

_I want Kaneki to hold my hand._

_I want Yoshimura to wave and tell me hello._

_I want see Kaneki blush when I call him cute._

_I want Uta to make me a mask._

_I want Kaneki to call me by _my _name._

_I want Kaneki._

I only stopped running when I tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, miles from home but not any farther away from the suffocating feelings that clouded my thoughts. I hit the ground hard with a groan, not very interested in the struggle to get up any time soon. Everything ached - I was really out of shape. Getting to my feet was harder than I expected and when I finally stood I hunched over, panting with the exertion. When I could manage a breath through my nose I stood and glanced around, only to realize with mild panic that I had no idea where I was.

I wiped at my leaking eyes with scratched up palms and started to walk. Why did I leave my phone behind? _Because you had and are having a mental break down,_ I thought cheerfully in response. My shoulder was screaming in pain from the abuse and I put a hand on the bandage as if the pressure would alleviate some of the ache.

For hours I wandered around like that, hopelessly lost in the maze of the city. I was too proud to ask anyone for directions and too terrified to go back home - or go anywhere, really.

How could I? I hadn't even known their names. I'd been with them for months and I had no idea. Not an inkling. I hadn't even… was I really so self absorbed?

_Of course,_ a voice hissed. _Once a selfish child, always a selfish child._

I tried not to flinch at the negative thought but I couldn't help but agreeing. Because that's what I was, right? A selfish child. I hurt them - Toki's parents. Akane and Elliott. I hurt Kaneki, too. I hurt my parents, I hurt my sister. The atrocious parts of my personality had not faded with death and crossed through the void with me to plague my new life with tragedy. Ha! Oh, Kaneki, we can write our own tragedies together, what do you say?

Hours of these thoughts plaguing my mind, dragging me down into a darkness that I tried to desperately to leave behind. Hands trembled as my body ached and whined for rest, throat burning for water and mind pleaded -

A crash echoed from my right, startling me out of my thoughts and sending me to the cement once again as I jumped, ankle bending when it refused to hold my weight. A tinkling noise like wind chimes rose to a crescendo and faded before returning with a vengeance, a muted howl ringing in response. I was on my feet and running once again, following the sound and picking up the pace when the sound abruptly stopped.

I skidded to a stop in the opening of an alleyway, eyes not believing what I saw in front of me.

The kagune that extended from her shoulder began to flicker out, fading like dying flames of yellow and red, pulsing and writhing before finally going out. But I could almost still see it, gorgeous and vivid, like some living creature from another world. This world. The danger didn't register until the figure turned around, glowing eye focusing on my figure before widening in surprise.

When my situation finally began to click into place, when the spike of fear finally wormed its way into my heart, I already knew that it was too late.

Touka Kirishima had seen me.

* * *

-waves- Hello there.

For those that don't know me, I'm Calloniel. I've been avoiding author notes because I didn't want to interrupt the flow of the story, but I wanted to let you guys know how much I appreciate all the reviews and favorites and follows. It means a lot to me.

I also wanted to ask you guys a question - would you be interested in a side story with other characters POV's? I thought a couple of times about writing a chapter from another character's perspective, but every time I tried it didn't flow with the story very well.

Let me know what you guys think and again, thank you so much for reading!

Lotsa love,

Calloniel

p.s. for those who are curious, yes, the new cover is of Toki and yes I drew it c: it only took me like forever but I got it done! I hope you guys like it.


	8. Chapter 8

"_The truth will set you free._

_But not until it is finished with you_."

David Foster Wallace

* * *

Even as terror flooded my system and made my knees tremble, I couldn't help but be in awe of her eyes. There was nothing in the real world, in _my_ world, that has eyes like that and I had only seen it twice before - both times it had been with Kaneki…

...who was laying on the ground in a puddle of blood, glittering shards of Touka's kagune lodged in his body. Even as my eyes widened to take in the sight, they began to fade in a shimmer of light. My body moved before I could really think of the action and I bolted past Touka to skid to the boy's side, knees aching as the abused skin tore, pulling his limp body up into my lap. I tapped at his bloody face with my hand, almost slapping him, shaking his shoulders and incapable of making a sound, though I wanted to _scream _at him. I put my head to his chest and only relaxed when I heard the beating of his heart. He was covered in scratches and full of holes from the abuse he had suffered, gaping wounds that weeped blood. I pressed my hands to the wounds, pressure, I needed to keep pressure - he would heal but when? When? Could I even do anything?

I remembered this. I vaguely remembered this. Wasn't Hide here? I looked up and around, not sparing Touka a glance despite the emotionless stare she sent my way, and found the boy's body atop a pile of debris. His face was covered in who knew what and after carefully setting my friend on the ground and wiping my bloody hands on his shirt I crawled over to him, using the sleeve of my own (though technically Kaneki's) jacket to wipe away the vomit and spit.

"Toki."

I resorted to taking the jacket off, wincing when it jostled my shoulder. The gauze was practically useless now, completely stained, and I thought vaguely that I should have changed it while I had been at home. My clothes as well - bloody and clinging to my frame from sweat. I put it over Hide and did the same thing I had to Kaneki, my head over his chest, searching for a heartbeat. It was there, steady though a bit quick, and I felt myself melt with relief. I knew he was fine, but there was a difference between knowing and… well, _knowing_.

"_Toki._"

My eyes drifted to Touka then. My organs seemed lodged in my throat as I took her in - and noted that she had not come out of this unscathed either. Her long, toned legs were ripped to shreds and beginning to blacken with bruises, her arms in similar condition. Her face had not escaped the fight with long scratches over her cheeks. Had Kaneki done that? As I stared at her, slowly rising to my feet with my palms out in a stance that I hoped appeared nonthreatening, her kagune began to form again in a wondrous display of color. Orange, red, yellow, and at the edges flares of purple. And there by her shoulder blade shining just a bit brighter than the rest was something that I found resembled an eye, a red orb that fluctuated in a strangely steady pattern.

Did you know that when a ghoul reveals their kagune, it makes a sound? There is a sort of ripping noise that I've come to recognize is the sound of flesh tearing as the organ comes out of their skin. How painful is that? It had to hurt. But along with the sound of ripping is a kind of music. That's the only thing I could compare it to. Each kagune, each ghoul, has a different melody as they bring out their ultimate weapon, their ultimate defense. Touka's reminded me of wind chimes, the kind that you would find dangling on a porch in a small country home. Lighthearted and cheerful as a light breeze played with the shaped metal.

I couldn't help my stare, even as I instinctively lowered my center of gravity in what could be mistaken as a protective stance over Hide. But really my body bowed under the pure aura of dominance the younger girl exuded. In my old life and my old body I might have been able to get out of a fight and consider it a win, but Toki was not in shape _at all_ \- and Touka wasn't human.

I was going to die before I had a chance to do anything.

Fucking bullshit.

My legs trembled and I made a halfhearted attempt towards the entrance of the alley, only to skid on the balls of my feet and lunge towards Kaneki as though his unconscious body could protect me. Ridiculous, right? But I figured if I was going to die I might as well be beside the person I was closest to. How disgustingly sentimental.

It took her less than a second to reach me, arm colliding with my shoulder and sending me tumbling off to the side. I rolled and banged hard against the wall. My arms went over my head automatically to protect my skull, not that it mattered since moments later I was up on my feet and pinned by a hand on my throat, eyes connecting with glowing crimson.

She didn't say anything for a moment. But when she spoke, I thought I caught a hint of regret in her voice. "Sorry, Toki. I wish you hadn't seen this - I really don't mind you. Just the wrong place and the wrong time, I suppose."

I began to scribble on her collarbone, the only place I could really reach in my position, '_Please, Touka, stop -_' My hand was shaking and I have no idea how much of my nonsense she could understand if she tried to understand it at all.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna eat you. You'll just disappear." A crescendo of sound from her kagune as she raised her single wing and I couldn't help but stare at it as it towered above me, over me, her last word ringing in my ears, "Sorry."

And just as I was about to die once again an arm shot between us, dark gray coat fluttering. Touka immediately released me and I slumped to the ground, diaphragm heaving as I coughed and choked (though her grip hadn't really been that tight), glancing up to see -

Yomo Renji?

I couldn't help but stare in disbelief as Touka snarled. "What are you doing?"

He didn't reply, only glanced around at the carnage, eyes landing first on Kaneki, then Hide, before quickly sliding to me. I could help but jerk from the blankness of his stare. My knees went up to my chest and my hands wrapped protectively around my bruised throat, entire being screaming 'don't hurt me'. But he didn't even seem interested in me. He just pulled out a cellphone and dialed a number before putting it to his ear. He ignored the furious questions of Touka who only seemed to grow angrier. Unfortunately her fury seemed to be equally directed towards me and, despite my desire to appear uncaring of her nature, my fear was out of my control. I flinched with every gesture and decided staring at Yomo's feet was the best course of action.

Why was _he_ here? I had no recollection of this whatsoever. Neither the anime or the manga had covered this and I was completely out of my league. I didn't know much about him and couldn't predict what he would do. The only thing I knew for sure was that he was unquestionably loyal to Yoshimura. And Yoshimura liked humans. I mean, he married one, didn't he?

A spark of hope grew in my chest and I looked to Kaneki, who still lay sprawled on the ground. And to my surprise and shock he no longer seemed to be wounded. Red strands that reminded me of spiders legs were dancing across his skin and sealing up the holes Touka had created, skin growing and blood vanishing as though sucked back up into his body.

Whoever Yomo had called must have picked up the phone for he began to talk quietly into the speaker, and with my attention focused on the miraculous healing ability of the one-eyed ghoul I missed the beginning of the conversation, only jerking back to attention when the man moved.

"Yes." His voice was deep, but not overly so - if his speech hadn't been so empty of anything remotely resembling something in the human spectrum of emotion I wouldn't have been so unnerved. Another pause followed his single word before he repeated it, and after another lengthy moment of silence other than the faintest buzzing of a response on the other end of the line he said, "Got it." He pocketed the device and turned to Touka. "We're taking them to Anteiku."

"_What?!_" was the teen's response, her features animalistic in her fury. Her gaze found me. "She's seen me. She knows what I am. We can't -" Even as she continued to protest, her kagune was fading away once more with a reluctant series of chimes. Yomo must not have seen a point in giving her a response, for he just walked past her to Hide and flipped him over his shoulder, as if he weighed nothing.

Suddenly his attention was on me again. "Can you walk?" he asked.

I could only stare at him for a moment before giving him a shaky nod. He returned the gesture and looked to Touka, before jerking his head in the direction of Kaneki. Touka shot me another untrusting glower, and then moved to swing the boy onto her back with deceptive grace. She stalked out of the alleyway and it was only when she was out of sight that I began to slowly drag myself up the wall.

It took a couple tries, and it didn't help that Yomo was watching me with that emotionless expression of his. My knees wobbled and my heart was pounding erratically, as if it couldn't decide to keep chugging or to halt from anxiety. Once I was on my feet he began to walk. The command for me to follow was unspoken and we trailed after Touka, who remained a good ten feet in front of us, leading us through back roads and alleyways towards the coffee shop.

I appreciated the distance, though I desperately wished Yomo was as equally kind. He remained beside me, an overwhelming presence as his eyes constantly flickered over my battered form. My hands stretched and wrung the hem of my shirt, further destroying the fabric that had already been through so much.

"Who did that?"

The question was unexpected and I couldn't help but jump away at the sound. My eyes locked with Yomo's dark stare, following his gaze when he glanced at the bloody gauze that clung stubbornly to my skin. I didn't reply, head turning to glance at what I could see of my shoulder and back to the ghoul beside me. The silence stretched until a scoff came from in front of us.

"She's mute. She can't answer you." Touka had turned her head slightly to view us, expression still sour, but even she seemed to be curious despite herself. "But it wasn't me."

With both of their gazes on me I felt compelled to answer. But it almost felt like a betrayal if I gestured to my friend and I stubbornly looked to the ground. Neither of them pressed for a response though Yomo's glances became a bit more frequent and I thought I saw his nostrils flare. Would he be able to smell it? Could he smell Kaneki on me? That was a strange thing to think about.

It was common knowledge that ghouls were stronger and faster than the average human, about four to seven times more so. It was also agreed that they had heightened senses of sight, hearing, and smell. I didn't know exactly how much better. Multiple characters had claimed Kaneki smelled like Rize. Based on that, it was entirely plausible for Yomo to smell Kaneki all over my wound - but Touka had just been all over me too. Exactly how evolved was their sense of smell?

The sun had almost set when we arrived at the back of Anteiku, Yoshimura waiting by the door with a pleasant smile on his face. There was no recognition upon seeing me, though given the amount of people that flooded his cafe on a daily basis it wasn't incredibly surprising. Unless he was simply pretending. We had waved at each other a couple of times and I stopped by a lot to chat with Enji and Touka. He held the door open and gestured us all inside, ordering Yomo and Touka to take their passengers upstairs. When I moved to follow them, the manager stopped me.

"Toki," he said with a quiet calm. So he _did_ know me. I watched him warily, gaze flicking between him and the stairs where my friends had vanished. "Don't worry. I just wanted to have a bit of a chat. Would you like some coffee?" He turned and started to walk down the hallway. After a couple seconds of debate I followed him into a back room and watched as he began to brew a pot of coffee. He didn't speak as he moved about the room quietly, that little smile not leaving his face for a second.

There was a small table in the corner and I ambled over to it, taking a seat. Everything ached - I started to peel off the useless bandage Kaneki had applied, grimacing. The entire thing was crimson. I wondered if it would begin to drip if I wrung it out like a sponge.

A cup was placed before me on a small platter, quickly joined by another cup as Yoshimura took the seat across from me. His stare seemed to focus on the bandage in my hand and the aggravated wound of my shoulder.

"Did Kaneki do that?"

I looked at the steaming cup of coffee before me and didn't reply, but that was an answer in and of itself.

There was a clink of porcelain. "So you have probably known for a little while then… I see." It was silent as he lifted his cup to his lips and took a long sip. I picked at the ruined bandage for lack of any place to put it and resisted the urge to scratch at the drying blood. I jumped in my seat when he spoke again with a hint of amusement in his voice. "Given that the CCG are not bursting through the door I presume that you have kept your knowledge to yourself?"

Again the answer was obvious.

Silence and then the scrap of a chair as the old man got up, either not noticing my flinch or polite enough not to mention it. I watched as he took a plate from a cabinet and a sandwich wrapped in plastic from the steel refrigerator - one of them. I presumed the other was used for their meat. He returned and placed the plate in front of me with that ever present smile. "You look like you could use a bite. I hear that it's good." His smile seemed to get a little bit bigger as he gave a chuckle.

Even I had to crack a smile though I fought it off valiantly, reducing the action to a twitch of the lips.

Yoshimura took his seat again and another sip of his coffee. This time the silence lingered indefinitely. After I had counted to three hundred I let myself succumb to hunger and nibble eagerly on the edge of the food provided. It was good, and after another three hundred seconds not even crumbs remained. When had I last eaten? I didn't linger on the thought and picked up my coffee to sip at it quietly. It was bitter and not nearly sugary enough for my tastes but I gulped it down.

The silence was interrupted when Yoshimura gave a sigh. "You remind me of her," he said simply and for a second I was sorely tempted to ask him what he meant, but Yomo Renji ruined the moment when he slid into the room. In his hand was a small first aid kit.

The two ghouls shared a look before the older man rose and, taking the used dishes to deposit in the sink, dipped his head to me. "Yomo will patch up your injuries and take you home. We will speak again later, hmm?" Another kind smile and he left the room.

My stare went back to the abused bandage in my fingers. I told myself firmly that since the manager had given me what appeared to be his approval that nothing would happen I couldn't help but flinch as Renji dropped into the seat opposite me. He popped open the first aid kit and ripped open a pack of alcohol wipes, taking one and scooting closer before pausing.

"I won't hurt you," he reassured. His voice was dead, seemingly contradicting his words, and I couldn't help but stare at him skeptically. Still, his eyes seemed honest and clear. He moved slowly when I didn't protest and began to wipe gently at the bite. It was cold and stung like a motherfucker. I was proud that the only sign of discomfort I couldn't control was the tensing of my muscles.

It took a couple of wipes to fully clean the wound. Once the skin was free of blood and sweat he looked to my palms and my knees, wiping them as well, though I doubted they needed more than a bandaid. Renji was quiet as he worked with a solemn focus. I let myself zone out while under his care, watching without really seeing as he applied some variant of neosporin to the scrapes and bandaged each tear in my skin. His hands were surprisingly soft, though I could feel the strength behind them. It was strange and entirely inappropriate but I was reminded of my father. Sturdy, focused, knowledgeable, confident, as though he had done this a million times before and this was just another part of his day. Where would Yomo Renji learn first aid? Ghouls had their healing. Well, most of them.

His focus returned to my shoulder, fingers pressing near the wound and causing me to suck in my breath. It needed stitches, or something to hold it together to keep it closed. Since I wasn't too concerned about scarring, stitches would be fine even if the idea of using stitches on bites was a bit controversial. Using stitches tended to increase the risk of infection. Superglue could be used as an alternative but it was better for shallower wounds.

Renji pulled out a box of skin closure strips, turning the cardboard over to let his eyes peruse the directions before popping it open and pulling out the strips. I turned my head to the side to give him more room to work, shutting my eyes tight to disguise my wince when he pushed the bruised and abused skin together. It _hurt_. I had never craved a drink more. To my relief, the ghoul worked quickly, covering the strips with a bandage once he was finished. The box with extra bandages was dropped into my lap and he moved to the sink to wash his hands.

"Your friends are upstairs."

I was moving before he had even finished, slipping out the door and darting back the way we had come. I took the stairs two at a time despite the ache in my bones. I found Hide first and it was with a heavy sigh of relief that I collapsed on the floor by the bed he was sprawled upon. He was heavily bandaged, a thick length of gauze wrapped around his head. I brushed his bangs from where they had fallen into his eyes, giving a small smile as he sleepily turned his head away. I glanced down his body and moved to his feet, taking off his shoes and setting them down neatly. I grabbed a nearby blanket and drew it over his body. Once that was done, I tiptoed out to find Kaneki.

Conveniently, he was in the room next door. He wasn't alone. Touka stood with her back to me, unintelligible mumblings rising in falling from her lips as she pulled bloody hands away from Kaneki's lips. A plain paper wrapping was on the coffee table next to her.

I was, strangely enough, reminded of purchasing steaks from the grocery store, watching with rapt attention as the raw meat was weighed and totaled up before being wrapped up in paper and string. The meat would always be cold to the touch, infusing the paper with a chill that I couldn't equate with human warmth. Even as I watched Touka shove another piece of human meat past his lips I couldn't imagine that it would be cold.

Was I a monster because the sight before me didn't bother me?

It really didn't. Or maybe I was just numb from shock. It was possible. I just stood there and watched as she forced Kaneki to eat. He would hate himself when he woke up, I thought to myself. I was fifty percent sure that this would result in another crying episode.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped at the harsh voice, eyes locking onto Touka's as she balled up the tan wrappings in her fist. She had applied some basic first aid to herself but she obviously hadn't finished yet, as some gaping wounds were still exposed. I cautiously stepped forward and when she made no aggressive moves I moved a little bit quicker, dropping to my knees with a wince next to Kaneki's head. I wiped at the blood on his face and lips, the result of the messy feeding, before dragging my fingers along his teeth. He had woken up and found blood on his teeth, hadn't he? Maybe I could save him from the knowledge of what had happened.

Slim fingers wrapped around my wrist and yanked it away. "Stop that," the teen scolded. "He might bite your fingers off." The look I tossed her way was doubtful but I conceded. I thought I got it all anyway.

Once she was sure I wouldn't be putting my hands where I shouldn't she dropped my wrist like a hot coal, giving me a hard stare before turning on her heel to leave. Maybe I was just high off adrenaline and the knowledge that I was still alive prompted me to do something reckless but I found myself latching onto the hem of her shorts. She froze and before she could turn around and maybe break my fingers I scrawled a word on her thigh.

Her answer was immediate. "We aren't friends. Stop saying we are." Despite that, her eyes were wide, as though she hadn't expected the automatic response that had come from her lips. I started to smile. Touka shot me another nasty look and stalking out of the room, door slamming behind her with a rattle.

I considered that a success.

Slumping against the bed Kaneki rested on, I let my head fall against his shoulder, taking comfort from his presence. My body must have finally recognized that it had no more energy left, as I found myself exhausted. I just wanted to sleep. It was all I wanted to do.

Unfortunately, it was late and I couldn't stay. I needed to get home for a shower, for a change of clothes… I needed to talk to my parents. Toki's parents. Or maybe I didn't need to talk to them. If I was lucky, they wouldn't have even noticed that I was gone. However, I'm the least lucky person in existence and the chances were slim. There were probably cops crawling around searching for me. A grimace crossed my features. They would probably guess I was with Kaneki again.

… Which was true. But it just created more problems for him and I cursed my stupidity. He didn't need any attention from _anyone_. Not right now, not ever.

I needed to get my shit straightened out before he got in trouble.

It took about ten minutes for me to convince my legs that yes, they could move and yes, they needed to before I found myself standing with wobbly knees. I was glad I had eaten that sandwich earlier and the coffee was probably the only reason I wasn't off in dreamland. It took another five minutes for me to get back downstairs without falling on my face and maybe seven and a half minutes to figure out where the hell the door was. I stopped for a brief breather before debating if I could make it home or not. Should I leave a note for the Anteiku folks letting them know that I had left? Maybe I could get them all a gift basket or one of those fruit arrangements. They couldn't eat fruit though. A human arrangement?

Pfft.

That sounded like something Tsukiyama would do. The thought of him carefully choosing where to place the fingers in relation to the spleen was the funniest thing I had thought of all day - which probably went to show how shitty the day had been.

I slid open the door and started to slither through the crack I had created, frowning when something solid blocked my path. My eyes traveled up the decorative gray t-shirt and the black jacket before alighting on a pale face with handsome lips twisted up into a friendly smile. Crimson eyes were once again hidden by dark lenses and I cursed everything in existence that caused him to hide them.

Then I slid back through the crack and slammed the door shut.

God fucking dammit.

* * *

-waves- Hi again!

So people seemed to really like the idea of a separate story with alternate perspectives and omakes, so I'll whip something up for you guys! I don't know what I'll call it or when I'll have it up but I have a few ideas for scenes already c:

On another note, someone pointed out to me that the summary for ode to sleep is a bit... lacking. And it is. I'm not the best with summaries if you can't tell so I cheated by using song lyrics. Yay cheating! So if any of you guys have a good suggestion or idea for a summary hit me up, I'd love to hear it. Really, I would, hearing from you guys just makes my day. Or night. Cause sometimes I just go back and read through all of your reviews in the middle of the night don't judge me sob sob.

Special thanks to my precious betas (who are not fish but edit my story) Moka-girl and feathered-equine. They are beautiful snow flakes who deserve the best in life and make sure that this story isn't trash.

Lotsa love,

Calloniel


	9. Chapter 9

"_You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control._"

Megan Chance

* * *

The knock on the door was playful and familiar. Five knocks, a pause, and two more. A childish request for entrance.

I slid down to the floor and buried my face in my knees, torn between laughing in hysteria and sobbing in frustration. I was tired, I was sore, and I didn't feel like dealing with Uta at the moment. Was God testing me? I callously flipped my middle finger up to the ceiling in a silent 'fuck you' only to jerk with a squeak when the door began to open. My butt slid across the tile as the mask maker slipped inside, a small smile on his features that only grew when he saw me on the ground.

"Ah, did I scare you?" He shut the door and after circling like a dog plopped onto the floor next to me, chin in his hands as he peered at me. I leaned back against the door with a quiet sigh and shook my head. His smile grew. "Toki, right?" A tattooed hand extended towards me invitingly. "I don't think I ever gave you my name. I'm Uta."

Had he told me his name? I blinked at him lethargically, gaze dropping to his hand. I stared a bit longer than normal before I took it with my own in a weak shake. My shoulder hurt. My neck hurt. Everything hurt and I just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep away the newest trauma.

And then I realized - Fuck. He could see every scratch, every scar, every drop of blood on my person. Kaneki's jacket, which had hidden my injuries and stained shirt from view, had been dropped somewhere.

The ghouls head cocked to the side as I tensed. As he opened his mouth to speak, undoubtedly to question my ragged appearance, I made a grab for his hand and scribbled the first thing that came to mind. '_Why do you wear sunglasses all the time? Are you embarrassed?'_

Uta was effectively distracted, as he raised a thin brow in question. I kept going, despite the growing embarrassment induced nausea that made me want to hide in a hole, encouraged that this line of questioning would prevent him from asking about the obvious. '_You wear them inside and at night. Do you think your eyes are ugly or something?'_ My fingers traced the skin of his palm rapidly, and every once in a while I would have to rewrite a character as figurative word vomit exploded onto his hand. It was a miracle if he understood a word of it. '_I thought that, when I was little. My sister said brown eyes were like dirt so I went around for years thinking my eyes were hideous and that nobody liked them until my mom sat me down and told me that all eyes are unique and so you shouldn't be embarrassed of your eyes because I bet they're beautiful.'_

I stopped and we just stared at each other, me in growing mortification and Uta in what I guessed was amusement, given the quirk of his lips. He opened his lips to speak -

'_What are you doing here?' _I interrupted with a nervous smile, waiting a second before jerking my hand back to my chest. I went back to his hand a moment later. '_Sorry.'_

I could almost imagine his eyes raking over my figure as he propped his chin in his hand again, tilting his head like a cat inspecting an insect. "Just dropped by to visit a friend of mine," he hummed. "The better question is why you say your eyes are brown…" At this he leaned forward, invading my personal space as he spoke. "When they look quite grey to me."

His sly smile and the feeling of his breath fanning over my cheeks distracted me from what his words meant. I could only stare until the epiphany left me gasping.

_My eyes weren't brown anymore. They were grey._

Uta's head tilted the other way but I hardly recognized the action. I didn't even notice when Yomo stepped into the hall to peer at us from where we sat on the floor. All I could do was stare at my reflection in those damn sunglasses, the light orbs, no longer that dark shade of dirt, wide in shock mocking me.

"What are you doing here?"

_That's right._

"Hmm? Nothing, really."

_My hair isn't blond anymore. My eyes…_

"Toki."

_They're grey._

"Do you know her?"

_Grey. Not brown. They aren't brown anymore._

"Toki."

_Momma -_

I let out a harsh breath of air before lunging up onto unsteady legs, fumbling with the door handle and stepping over Uta's knee to escape into the cool air outside. "Ah, you scared her." I could hear Uta's disappointed voice through the door as I slammed it shut and started down the street, eyes unfocused. Whatever the response was I didn't hear it.

It was incredibly distressing, the fact that my eyes were no longer the same shade, my hair darker and my features sharper. This wasn't the body that I had grown up in. I hadn't marred this body with scars, I hadn't gone binge drinking in this form, I hadn't had my first kiss in this body. This wasn't the body that had caused me years of self-loathing. This body hadn't been birthed by my mother, this hand hadn't been held by my sister, my father hadn't brushed this hair, my dog hadn't licked this face -

And suddenly I wondered if any of that had happened at all.

It was his shadow at the next street lamp that alerted me to his presence and interrupted my train of thought. I glanced over my shoulder to scrutinize his towering form. He didn't say a word, continuing towards me to stop only a couple of feet away. I didn't mean to glare at him - He really didn't deserve it. But I couldn't control it, the ice from my glacier stare sinking into my own bones. I turned back around and stalked off.

Coincidence found me with plush grass beneath my feet and large trees on all sides. I stopped and stared at the ground, uncomprehending, before I slipped off my shoes to walk barefoot. The sprinklers must have gone off earlier as I could feel the damp earth between my toes. I grabbed my shoes by the laces and swung them in time with my steps. I knew this park - very vaguely, however. It was a couple of miles away from the house. My house?

I stopped beneath a large tree, I didn't know what kind, and plopped on the ground in a snug spot between two roots. I buried my face in my knees and tried not to think. I tried not to think, not to breathe -

I tried to stop existing.

Yomo was still there, standing calmly in front of me. He didn't ask any questions or push for me to move and for that I was grateful. I just wanted to sit there in silence. I wanted to let my mind stutter to a stop.

I hated feeling this way. Like everything was over and there was no point to life anymore. Like the ground swallowing me up would be a mercy.

Toki's razors suddenly seemed rather appealing.

His voice, monotone and smooth as velvet, broke the silence. "Where is your home?"

Oh… Right. Yeah. Yoshimura said Yomo would take me home, didn't he? Home. And for some reason I found that to be the funniest thing I had heard in months. Giggles burst from my chest, evolving in uncontrollable laughter, almost like a scream. I couldn't stop. I could hardly breathe from laughing. I don't know how long it took for the laughter to turn to sobs, or when the tears of humor turned to tears of hysteria, but eventually they subsided. And I looked up at the ghoul before me, a sad smile staining my lips, and I said:

"I don't know where home is anymore."

* * *

When I opened my eyes the next morning it was to a stunning array of pink and gold with hints of purple and fire. For just a second I wondered if Touka was there to kill me when the image came into focus - leaves. Flowers. Cherry blossoms. _It must be sunrise_, I thought absently, fingers tangled in the warmth of Yomo's coat.

I glanced over to see the mountainous figure leaning against the trunk of the tree next to me, head bowed and eyes closed. I just watched him for a minute or two, wondering why he had stayed, why hadn't said anything, done anything. He had just… taken off his grey coat and carefully draped it over my quivering form before sitting beside me. I had fallen asleep - his coat was deceptively soft and warm.

He had a comforting smell…

Perhaps he felt my stare but the ghoul began to shift. I held still as he opened his eyes and glanced around before looking down at me. I blinked. We quietly stared at each other in the peace of the early morning and, as if we had reached some sort of unspoken agreement, we both began to rise. I handed him his coat and slipped my shoes back on before, reluctantly, leading the way back home.

The city slowly started to come alive as we walked. We got a few stares as we made our way down the street, me the bloodstained teen and Yomo the large man following behind in black. But nobody stopped us and I made it to the house with little fanfare.

I stopped outside the door and stared at the fine wood as if I could set it on fire with the power of my glare alone. Nothing happened. Damn.

A box of cardboard was pushed into my hands and I blinked, glancing up at the ghoul. He didn't say a word, just gave me a nod of his head before turning and leaving. It contained extra bandages to put on my shoulder. I tilted the box this way and that, lifting my head to attempt some form of apology and thanks - but he was already gone, not even a silhouette in the distance. I let out a shaky sigh and slipped through the door.

They were in the kitchen when I attempted to sneak past. I had checked to see if I could crawl back up my makeshift rope only to find with a growing sense of dread that it was gone. They knew that I had left.

What did they expect with all that fighting? I tried to rationalize my actions as I peaked at the silent parents. They were moving in tandem in the kitchen, Akane flipping eggs while Elliott put some toast in the toaster. I waited until both of their backs were turned before darting past the entryway and up the stairs. I would take a shower, I told myself, then go talk to them. It was only prolonging the inevitable. I'd gone through this rodeo already.

I made the shower quick, scrubbing hard at the dried blood and bandaging my shoulder again when I had finished. I took some extra time to patch up my knees and hands once more, then decided to try french braiding my hair. It went terribly, so I put it into a haphazard bun and spent another few minutes debating which pair of sweats would look best with which sweater...

Eventually I ran out of things to occupy my time and I trudged down the stairs with the air of someone walking the green mile. I tried to go somewhere else - some dark part of my mind where nothing could hurt me. I walked past Toki's mother, who didn't even spare me a glance as she poured three glasses of orange juice. Toki's father wasn't much better, though he did manage a 'good morning' as he buttered the toast.

I took a seat at the kitchen table and waited. Eventually they finished preparing breakfast and laid out the spread of delicacies on the table. I couldn't help glancing at them suspiciously as we all loaded our plates. I wasn't too hungry - I just nibbled on one of the slices of toast and stared at the ceramic dish before me.

It only took a minute or so for the roast to begin.

Elliott heaved a sigh, running a hand through blonde hair. "Toki," he sighed. "We honestly don't know what to do with you."

_Nothing_, I thought with a desperate bite of bread. _You don't have to do anything. Just leave me be. I'll be fine._

"We've tried giving you your space, we've tried micromanaging," he listed. "And you just… We don't know what to do anymore." I glanced at Akane to find her watching me with a hawk like countenance. I looked back down to pick at my cuticles.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" she asked quietly.

I didn't. But they waited, patiently, as if by some miracle I would jump up and change. I couldn't - I hated, _hated_ the fact that I was the reason for their hurt. That they spent hours fighting because of me. That I was here and Toki wasn't.

I couldn't be Toki for them.

I couldn't lose myself in this mad fuck up of a world.

After a few minutes of silence Toki's father sighed once again. "Alright then. You're coming to California with me."

I stopped.

I slowly looked up at him.

My expression must have said everything I was feeling, despite the fact I couldn't even properly identify them myself such was the shock, because he continued with the air of someone who wanted nothing more than the opposite of what he was saying. "I'm leaving to California for business in a couple of weeks and you're coming with me." I started to shake my head, but he continued to talk. "We aren't going to go through a repeat of this from last time. We can't figure out what to do so hopefully your aunt will be able to knock some sense into you again."

I began to frantically tap at the table, desperate to get him to _shut up_ and _listen to me_. I glanced to Toki's mother for some sort of back up be she was calmly cutting into her fried egg. Yellow yolk spilled across her plate and in my frantic state it reminded me of blood. I'd been seeing way too much blood lately.

I couldn't go. Not now.

"Until we leave," Toki's father was still going strong, but his mouth was curled in a grimace. He didn't like what he was doing - I didn't like it either. "You're to be accompanied by a chaperone. She'll drive you to and from wherever you want to go and if we find you've gone somewhere without her, we'll take your door off the hinges. If the behavior continues, we'll take your phone." My hand was slapping the table hard now and he rose his voice to be heard over the noise. "If I find you've improved your attitude in California you won't need your chaperone anymore after that."

Something like a whine escaped my throat as I quivered in a panic. Why wouldn't they listen? Neither were looking at me now, and with a snarl I stood, kicking my chair back, uncaring when it tipped over and clattered loudly on the tile.

"Toki!" Akane admonished, eyes blazing.

I bared my teeth and clenched my hands into fists. Toki's father - though he looked so much like mine for a moment - slowly rose to his feet. "This is final, Toki," he said quietly. "Make sure you're packed and ready to leave. We'll be gone maybe a month. I already got you a chaperone - She'll be here later this afternoon if you want to go anywhere."

He sat down and Toki's parents continued to eat their breakfast.

I bolted.

I launched myself up the stairs and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut as if the loud noise could diffuse the anger and fear boiling inside of me. My feet wore tracks into the carpet as I paced and seethed. My shoulder ached from the jerky movements but I couldn't stop myself, my body quivering like a muscle that had been tense for too long.

I couldn't leave. Kaneki needed me. What was I supposed to do if I left? The entire reason I was here was for Kaneki - _lie_ \- I had to save him. I couldn't save him if I was off with some Aunt that I didn't know thousands of miles away.

A small shriek escaped my lips as my fingernails pried open the cuts on my palm, causing fresh blood to sink into the bandage and slip between my fingers to the floor. I forced myself to take a deep breath, hold it for ten counts, before releasing it. The exhale was shaky and I repeated the process until my breathing was even and steady.

I went into the bathroom to wash the cuts and rebandage them, tossing the useless ones into the trash. Tossing back some Advil, I went to my desk and popped open my laptop, bringing up a word document.

I began to write.

I didn't know much about the timeline - so I just wrote things how I remembered them happening. Kaneki would be joining Anteiku now, and after a couple days perhaps Hinami would show up. A day or so later he would see Uta and get his mask. I wasn't sure how long it took until Hinami's mother died, and the resulting murders of CCG agents, the doing of Touka. Then Kaneki would fight Amon, Mado would die, then Tsukiyama would come…

Everything was jotted down in quick bullet notes, and once I had the rough outline of the series completed I went through and began to change names. I could go to the library and learn some kind of code to protect it at least a little, though there wasn't anyone in this house who was remotely related to the plot besides me. Hopefully this would just make people think that I was writing some morbid novel.

Looking over what I had written, my guess was that I would miss most if not all of the Hinami arc and possibly some of the Tsukiyama arc. The only thing that I would have wanted to prevent was Kaneki (and by proxy, Hinami) witnessing her mother's death and possibly attempting to find a way to help Kaneki with Amon. But I wasn't a fighter - the most I could do would be to jump in the middle and beg for them both to stop, but that wouldn't happen either. I wasn't stupid. So that would be something I couldn't change.

But I couldn't miss much of the Tsukiyama arc. Kaneki was just too trusting, and as great as Shuu was I would be damned before I let him send Kaneki to that creepy restaurant. That problem was easier to fix. I just had to tell Kaneki not to trust him. I would have to deal with Tsukiyama most likely hating my guts, but I could live with that. Kaneki just needed to be safe. He would be fine through the Hinami arc. I just had to be back before Tsukiyama stepped into the picture.

He - _I_ \- could survive a month. Right?

I saved the document and shut the laptop down, going to close the lid, when something stopped me. Grey, storm cloud eyes, dark hair a peculiar sheen of red, angular features.

Not a single piece of me was left.

I couldn't see traces of my mother in the shape of my face, nor the eyes and long lashes that made my sister and I so alike. My nose had been my father's - that was gone too, no longer wide and plump but narrow and small. Not too small, but it still wasn't my nose. I pressed my fingers to my lips as I stared at a reflection that didn't belong to me.

I brought the laptop back to life with a click, bringing up chrome and staring at the google homepage, the blinking cursor in the search bar, waiting. My fingers trembled and I had to delete and retype the letters over and over again - it was only two words. I hit enter.

My lips quirked up into a broken smile.

* * *

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_I think we should talk._

To: Unknown

From: Aibu Toki

_Alright. Where?_

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_Here__. 4pm sound good?_

To: Aibu Toki

From: Unknown

_I'll buy ;)_

To: Unknown

From: Aibu Toki

_I'll see you there._

* * *

The cup of coffee was warm in my hand, and I took a careful sip. It wasn't quite as good as Anteiku but the nightmares had come back - and anything to keep Hide from noticing the constant trembles would work.

He walked beside me as we ambled down the street. I watched him from my peripheral vision, noting that the bandage around his head had come off - it had been a couple of days so it was understandable. His text had been a surprise, however. It wasn't who I had been expecting after days of radio silence.

Kaneki still hadn't contacted me.

"So, Toki, how ya been?" he drawled, and the interruption of the silence made me jump a bit. I took out my phone and typed out a response, holding it out for him to grab.

'_Tired. Parents suck. How about you? I heard about the accident.'_

Hide's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Oh, I'm doing pretty good! Got my head banged up a bit is all." He took a sip of his coffee. "But you would know, wouldn't you? Since you were there, and all."

I tripped over thin air, stumbling a bit, but I forced myself to keep walking. Of course he had been awake - why would I expect anything different? After giving the boy a good staredown I took my phone back and typed a reluctant response.

'_Yeah, I was.'_

"It wasn't a car accident."

'_No.'_

"How much do you know?"

I shot him a look. '_How much do you?'_

Hide's smile grew a bit wider and he gave a chuckle. "I passed out when Touka arrived. I came back around a bit once you showed up." He shook his cup of coffee and satisfied he had drained all he could he tossed it into the nearby trashcan. It was silent again except for the hustle and bustle of the citizens of Tokyo going about their day to day lives. If only they knew the conversation going on right beneath their noses.

I wondered how many would care.

I wondered how many wouldn't.

His hand on my arm was warm as he drew us to a stop, the facade of humor gone. "Did you know? Before…" he trailed off. I hesitated for a moment. In response I drew down the collar of my shirt to expose the injury I'd managed to keep hidden. The teen let out a curse and jerked back before coming closer, fingers hovering over the bandage. I pulled the collar back up and smoothed it over. "Did he…?"

I nodded and he stared, dumbstruck.

"And you… you still helped him?"

My stare was harsh and the tap of my fingers against the screen of my phone was louder than necessary. '_Kaneki is my best friend. He means the world to me. Besides, I haven't known him any other way. And as his best friend you shouldn't care either.'_

"Any other…?" he started with a widening of his eyes, only to be interrupted by a manicured hand dropping on my shoulder - the injured one.

I struggled to hide my grimace of pain as Takahashi Noriko, designated Chaperone and stalker, stopped beside us with a kind smile. "Any trouble?" she inquired, but despite the polite tone her fingers squeezed and her eyes were locked onto Hide as if he were about to grow fangs and claws and assault me.

'_We're fine,'_ I typed, shrugging off her hand none too kindly. I grabbed on to Hide, who was staring at me strangely now, and pulled him forward. I glanced behind to make sure Noriko was out of hearing distance before releasing his hand, taking a heavy draw of coffee. The shaking wouldn't stop.

He didn't ask until I had finished my cup and tossed it away. "Who is she?"

'_My chaperone._' I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk as we went along. Takahashi Noriko had been a relatively unobtrusive presence in the Aibu household, showing up at 7 AM and leaving at 11PM, following along behind me wherever I went. She was nice enough and I didn't dislike her - I just hated what she represented. I hated my loss of freedom.

I hated that I no longer had a choice in anything.

"You said… You haven't known him any other way. Does that mean his accident is when…?"

I blinked, rubbing carefully at my shoulder in an attempt to ease the ache. After a second I nodded and Hide cursed, dragging his hand down his face and back up through his hair. He gave a bark of laughter.

"How could I not know?" he was saying, voice almost a whine. "I should have known. Why didn't he tell me? I wouldn't care, I don't care…"

I stared at his face, twisted in regret, and slipped my hand into his. I intertwined our fingers and kept walking. I was almost pulling him now. I could feel the roughness of his palm against mine and the way he squeezed it with a familiar sense of desperation reminded me of Kaneki.

I wonder if he felt left behind. Did he feel betrayed? If only he knew that Kaneki would never tell him. That if I hadn't been there, if he hadn't bitten me, I wouldn't have known either. Both of us would have been alone in the dark without a light.

I don't know how far we walked, or how long. He didn't speak and I didn't feel any urge to interrupt the silence. It was only when my phone buzzed with a message from Noriko telling me it was time to return for dinner that he spoke.

"Thank you," he said with a small smile.

'_For what?'_ I asked.

"For being there for him when I can't. I… I doubt he'll tell me the truth." Hide rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly. "I don't wanna push him either. But he has a hard time handling things on his own. So please." He pulled me around in front of him, the direct eye contact making the hair on my arms rise and butterflies dance in my stomach. "Please keep looking after him for me. Please." He bowed his head.

I couldn't help but stare at him, letting out a harsh breath of air in surprise. After a moment I patted his head, ruffling up the two-toned hair.

And I smiled.

'_I'll stay with him. I promise.'_

* * *

Hey guys! Calloniel here. So I've gotten great summary suggestions, and all of them were great. I want to combine them into one and just... gosh they were all just so good ;~; You all made choosing hard. So I decided to combine two suggestions I liked in particular. Say thank you to Aista and Addicted-to-GazettE for the new summary! c:

Just so you guys know you might get alerts for new chapters - I've been going through all the chapters and editing, mostly grammar and puncuation but there have been some other edits as well that are really different! Especially four and five. If you can tell me the differences you'll get a cookie. But yes, so if you get alerts for a new chapter, it probably is just me adding the updated chapter. So don't be alarmed.

Also, never be afraid to point out something silly! Like MahoganyShadow pointed out, Toki probably should have looked herself up sooner. I had her doing so in an earlier version of chapter two but found that it didn't really fit, and as a result I kind of forgot about it. But! I have her doing it now in here.

I love hearing what you guys think, what you would have done in her position, etc. Seriously, it doesn't even have to be a review, a PM would be just as great c:

Thanks as always to my lovely beta fishies, the all knowing and powerful Moka-girl and feathered-equine. They are fantastic and beautiful and I love them.

I hope you guys like the chapter!

Lotsa love,

Calloniel


	10. Chapter 10

"_Growth in love comes from a place of absence, where the imagination is left to it's own devices and creates you to be much more then reality would ever allow._"

Coco J. Ginger

* * *

Looking at him did nothing but send sharp spikes of rage through me, pulsing beams of red hot anger that urged me to do nothing more than spit in his face. A childish reaction stemmed from hurt feelings. I waited patiently for him to acknowledge me as I stood just inside the threshold of his office - a neat square of space located almost exactly under my bedroom.

It only took a minute for him to put his pen down with a sigh, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose. "What, Toki?"

I stepped forward and placed my carefully written note before him. He skimmed it with tired eyes before scrutinizing my expression as if searching for something. If he found it or not I don't know. He simply shook his head and said, quietly, "We'll see." He leaned back in his chair. "If I see a major improvement… we'll see."

I left before he could change his mind.

* * *

My butt had gone numb a good twenty minutes ago and Noriko was staring me down with the intensity of a hungry predator. I ignored her, face buried in my knees, arms wrapped tight to keep in the warmth I'd managed to build up. It was a bit chilly in the mornings, but in a way I was thankful. The only way to hide my injury was to wear hoodies or jackets with hoods. I'd have to think of an alternative solution when the heat started to get too much. Turtlenecks? Collared shirts?

Anteiku was closed - I'd arrived too early, much to my chaperone's irritation. But I hadn't known for sure when they opened and I didn't want to give myself the opportunity to chicken out and miss him.

Kaneki, that is.

It had been a total of five days since Kaneki had found Anteiku and started working there. It had been approximately five days since Noriko had become my chaperone. It had been nearly two days since I had seen Hide last. It had been five days since Kaneki had spoken to me. More like six. In about eleven days I would be boarding a plane out of Tokyo.

If I didn't see Kaneki within those eleven days I would _lose my freaking mind_.

Because after that it would be a month without him. A month without the sun. _I could just not go_, I reasoned with myself. That is, if I wanted to give up the shelter and food I was being provided for free and hunted down by the police. Not to mention that the age of majority in Japan was 20. Toki was 17. 18? I think we might have missed a birthday. Elliott and Akane had complete legal control over my life. They would just call the cops on me and then I would be really restricted - Chaperone? No, more like I would be chained to my bed. I could hide out with Kaneki, but I didn't think he had enough money, not to mention that would be one of the first places the cops looked. I doubted I would survive long on the streets.

After all, an underaged girl out on her own in ghoul infested Tokyo? Yeah. Sounded perfectly safe.

It was beyond frustrating. I sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly through my nose. Kaneki would be fine. _I_ would be fine. It would just suck major ass.

Maybe it would be good. This dependence that I had on him was rather ridiculous. I knew what was going to happen and he survived. I would be back in time before shit hit the fan.

I had to be.

_I could just… not go._ The thought returned and I began to nibble on my cuticles as my brain spun round and round.

There was a sparkle of hope in the terrible situation - a slim chance. I just had to do as they said. I had to 'improve'.

A chance was all I needed.

There was the click of a lock and a jingle of a bell, welcoming and familiar. I looked up over my shoulder to see Touka staring down at me. Her eyes were cold, distant, body stiff. After a moment of staring and a curious yet hateful glance towards Noriko, she jerked her head to beckon me inside.

I took just a second to stretch as I stood, back popping disconcertingly, and followed her into the dimly lit cafe. Noriko went to follow, and it was with something akin to pleasure that I shut the door in her face, locking it behind me with a cheerful waggle of my fingers. Noriko tugged on the door and scowled.

"Toki," she warned.

I typed out a message on my phone and held it against the window in the door for her to read. '_I need to talk to her privately for a minute or two. Wait here.'_

"Toki, no -"

Ignoring her was practically instinct as I went deeper into the lion's den, noting the chairs just beginning to be taken off the tables and flipped right side up. Enji was behind the counter, a damp rag in his hand as he cleaned the wood. Irimi was beside him, polishing glasses. Both looked up as we entered the room.

No one said a word and my hands fisted in the pocket of my hoodie. Enji did not greet me as normal - he simply stared, hands frozen on the counter. Irimi did not nod sagely and continue with her polishing. She too stopped and stared. Touka glanced between the three of us and trotted on up the stairs with a small smirk gracing her features, leaving us to our solemn silence.

I sucked in a deep breath of air and stalked to the bar with false bravado, sticking out my chest and plopping into a seat. The man's face twisted as he attempted to refrain from showing his amusement. I typed a quick message and smacked it down on the wood between us, sliding it over with a finger.

'_How many fingers does a girl got to chop off to get a white chocolate mocha around here?'_

Enji dropped his face into his hands and made a choked, wheezing noise. Irimi peaked over his shoulder and, after staring for a good thirty seconds, turned around and walked out of the room. I think the noise was her laughing, but I couldn't really tell.

"Oh my God, Toki," Enji rasped, shoulders shaking as he chuckled. "You're such an idiot. Really? _Really?_"

I pulled my phone back to type out a response, giving a sour pout as I let him read it. '_What am I supposed to do? I'm trying to break the ice here.'_

"You suck at breaking the ice."

'_Bite me.'_

"If the grapevine has been honest, which is normally is, someone has beaten me to it."

I slapped his hand where it lingered on the counter. '_Jealousy is an ugly look for you.'_

He put his hands over his heart and pouted dramatically. "I can't help it, Toki! I don't like sharing my things." His wink was playful and my smile couldn't be dimmed as we bantered back and forth like normal. And it was like normal - as if I didn't know he was a ghoul, and he didn't know that I knew. He attempted to poke at my shoulder to which I again smacked his hands, resulting in a promise for an exceptionally bitter coffee. Irimi came back in after a couple of minutes, face clean of emotion as Enji leaned over the counter to invade my personal bubble.

"So," he drawled, a smile slowly creeping over his face. "I'm sure you've heard of the great Devil Ape?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I glanced at Irimi and decided to test the waters, replying, '_Only that he got his ass kicked a lot by the Black Dog.'_

Enji gasped, affronted. "Not true! I am _way_ stronger than her! Irimi, tell her."

The woman in question raised a brow, read the message on my phone, and cracked a small smile. "Hmm, I believe Toki has a good point." She sent me a wink as she returned a cup to its proper place on one of the shelves. I smiled in return. So it seemed like she wasn't going to eat me alive. Alright, two down.

"Mutiny," he scowled. "This is mutiny."

At that moment Touka returned. Her smirk melted as she assessed the situation and her hands balled into fist. "You're fine with her knowing?" she drawled, looking between her two coworkers. The three looked calmly at each other. I fidgeted in my seat and looked down at the bar. To my surprise it was Irimi who spoke first.

"Yoshimura trusts her. So will I." The fact that the moment Yoshimura stopped trusting me would be the moment she ended my life went unspoken, but I heard the message loud and clear.

Enji grinned and waved a hand. "Toki's cool. I don't know any chick who would let a ghoul take a bite out of her and not go running to the Doves."

I smiled. It wasn't necessarily something to be proud of, but proud I was.

Touka snarled and shot me a look full of anger and frustration. I did my best not to flinch, but they all probably heard the scratch of my nails on wood as I clutched at the bar. She kicked at a chair, which cracked from the force. Then she whirled around and back up the stairs. Irimi went after her.

I stared after them with dread infecting my pores, anxiety making itself known from the trembles that radiated through my chest. Despite the fact Enji waved the incident off with grace, I couldn't stand sitting there with a furious ghoul on the floor above me. I paid for a coffee for myself and Noriko, took Enji's reassurances that I wasn't going to die anytime soon, and exited the shop. The chaperone was mildly placated at the treat and reduced her lecture to a minute speech on manners.

I took off down the street, Kaneki forgotten, sipping at my coffee to hide the minute shakes.

I didn't need everyone to like me. I didn't have any illusions of being everyone's best friend. But having Touka after my throat wasn't how I wanted things to go.

* * *

To: Aibu Toki [aibutoki7 at gmail . com]

From: Kamon Masako [kamon . masako at cox . net]

Subject: California

Dear Toki,

I hear that you are going to California with your father. How exciting! I expect you to keep up with our conversations since we won't be able to meet in person. Your parents tell me that you enjoyed the States the last time you stayed with your aunt and they hope this will help. I must say I agree, but you need to be accepting of change.

Keep your chin up. It will be hard, but I know you can do it! Just remember to try. You parents love you and this is what is best for you. Just remember your manners, and don't forget what I told you about respect. It will take you a long way.

Sincerely,

Dr. Kamon

* * *

To: Kamon Masako [kamon . masako at cox . net]

From: Aibu Toki [aibutoki7 at gmail . com]

Subject: RE: California

Dr. Kamon,

Hey, would you prefer to be burned alive or just asphyxiated? Both methods are quite clean, I swear. I've done some research into the matter and it will be as if you never existed.

Sincerely,

Aibu Toki

* * *

The page was a mismatched collection of random things - people, trees, animals. In the center was my current project, a profile of Kaneki. I was trying to recreate a wallpaper I had seen a lifetime ago and found myself struggling. His kagune wasn't quite right. I had never seen it for real, only the manga, anime, and fanart representations. Who knew whether or not any of them would match up? Some drew them slim and smooth, others thick and scaled. Perhaps it was all and none? I had seen Touka's kagune, a wonderful mirage of color, but so fantastic that no art could fully portray it. I couldn't help but imagine how Kaneki's would look.

If he ever talked to me again.

As the thought crossed my mind I checked my phone to see if he had responded to any of my multiple text messages. He hadn't - but I had a text from Hide, a silly emoticon of a cat cooking bacon. My lips quirked into a grin and I found myself doodling it in the margin with Hide's hair. After a moment of contemplation I gave it an eyepatch.

There.

It was hidekane in a nutshell.

I snorted, drawing Noriko's attention away from her phone. Upon seeing that I hadn't moved and wasn't doing anything obviously suspicious she settled back against the bench, fingers tapping away at the screen. I drew a heart around the cat and went back to my sketch. The only thing I really liked about it was how I had drawn the arch of his back and the curve of his jaw as he glanced over his shoulder. His hair was decent. His hands were totally wrong.

I pulled and stretched my kneaded eraser as I frowned at the image. I had made a lot of progress and could say I was almost at Toki's level - but I found that I was still never happy with the result of my work. Practice was key and I told myself that every time I wanted to shred a piece into fragments. I pulled my scarf up over my mouth and blew a gust of hot air into the fabric, finding comfort in the heat that spread across my cheeks.

Art really… it was helpful, despite how I struggled with it. It was a pleasant distraction from reality, from how crappy life was.

_Nope,_ I thought to myself, dragging my pencil across the page before erasing half of the line where it had gone astray. _Not gonna think about it. Not gonna think about anything except how to draw these Goddamn hands -_

"Toki," Noriko called, rising from the bench. "Are you ready to go?"

I lifted my head, pulling my bangs from my eyes and, after glancing about at the brightly lit and mostly empty park, nodded.

"I'm going to go get the car." She stalked off, already putting her phone to her ear. Given her current job, she'd been having issues with her boyfriend. Her going to get the car was more an excuse to call him up and have another argument - except this time where I couldn't hear it.

I dropped my eraser to hold my hand up to the light, thumb crossing over my ring finger as if I were cracking my knuckles Jason style. It didn't quite look right. Kaneki's hands were larger, and I couldn't quite figure out where the hell my pinky was supposed to go. I scribbled down another rough sketch and found myself pleased with the result regardless. It would turn to shit again as soon as I added details, though.

He could have been standing above me for an hour and I wouldn't have noticed - it was only after he spoke that I realized he had been there at all.

"I didn't know you could draw," Uta hummed. I jumped with a small squeak, immediately clutching my book to my chest and looking up. He hovered above me with a sly grin on his face, sunglasses firmly in place.

Drat.

I heaved a sigh (I couldn't think of anything at the moment that would make him leave) and patted the grass next to me. The ghoul plopped down beside me with grace that made me envious - but the bag he carried with him distracted me and I pointed to it curiously.

"Making a delivery," he hummed. "Do you want to see it?"

I gave a nod after a moment. I wondered if it was Kaneki's mask - I had no idea when it was, but the chance that it might be his was too great a temptation. The ghoul dug around in the bag for a second before pulling out a wrapped parcel, making quick work of the paper and holding up his masterpiece for me to see.

It was a clown.

I was hyper aware of the fact he was studying my expression, but I couldn't help the distaste that filtered through my features. There were two reasons for the semi-extreme reaction. The first was obvious. Uta was a member, if not the leader, of the Clowns. A ghoul organization that loved to laugh at the misfortune of others and generally stick their nose where it doesn't belong. Knowing Uta, this could be an elaborate test to see if I knew about him or the clowns and then he would kill me somehow. Unlikely, but possible. I wouldn't be too surprised.

The second reason - I fucking hated clowns. They were terrifying. Oh, yes, please laugh, but they were traumatizing. I first saw Stephen King's _It _when I was 9 and I had never looked at clowns the same way again. They were fine at a distance but if they got within arms reach I was booking it in the other direction.

I flipped to a clean page in my sketchbook, careful to keep the profile of Kaneki hidden, and wrote, '_Clowns are fucking creepy.'_

He laughed. Good sign.

"Do you think so? I think that means I achieved my goal." He flipped the mask in his hands and stared intently at the material. "The customer wanted something a bit on the scary side." The small smile on his face was cute. It bothered me.

'_So what are you doing here? A bit far from the studio.'_ As an afterthought I added, '_Are you stalking me?'_

Another laugh. Damn, I was good at this 'making the villain laugh' thing. "No," he replied, "I have a delivery nearby. I thought I recognized you and wanted to stop by and say hello." Uta wrapped the mask back up and slipped it into his bag before leaning back on his hands with a sigh. "What about you?"

'_Avoiding life and all its responsibilities,'_ I wrote. Then I frowned. '_It isn't working.'_

"Hmm, avoiding the problem tends to make things worse."

'_Nobody asked you._'

A grin. "No, you didn't." He didn't return the sketchbook for me to write, instead flipping to a page that was (thankfully) blank. He dragged the pencil across the page absently, a form slowly coming into shape. A head. Eyes. Lips. Nose. I leaned closer and pointedly ignored the heat he put off as our arms touched, instead focusing on the fact that he was effortlessly creating a portrait without using the eraser _once._

That motherfucker.

I reached over to tilt the sketchbook so I could see better, causing a chuckle from the man beside me. "I could teach you, if you want," he offered.

I rolled my eyes, snatching the pencil and scribbling, '_You can't teach someone how to draw. It's about practice.'_

Uta's response was typical and in character, a twitch of his lips into a smirk before purring, "Or _can _you?"

'_You just want me to visit HySy again.'_

"Perhaps."

A horn honked and we jerked away from each other to peer at the road. Noriko waved and I waggled my fingers in acknowledgement. I grabbed my bag and stood, holding out a hand for Uta to take. He did, and I struggled to pull him up to his feet - he was twice my size. I nabbed my sketchbook back in the process. '_Maybe I will. Later.'_

He tilted his head to the side and leaned against the tree. His bangs looked a little longer than the last I had seen them - my fingers itched and I clenched them into a fist. "You keep saying later, but so far you haven't kept your word. Will there really be a later?"

What a sly dog. I couldn't think of any reason as to why he would want to see me, a human, a plain Jane nobody. I stared at him hard, debating, reasoning, thinking, weighing the risks - before setting my stuff down and unwrapping my scarf. The fabric was soft and warm from use, the color a mesh of grey and black. I stepped forward and looped it around his neck once, twice, before tucking in the ends. He watched me from behind his sunglasses and if I looked hard enough maybe I could see the gleam of red. I picked my sketchbook back up, scribbled my message, and held it out for him to see.

'_I like that scarf. I'll come back for it.'_

I didn't linger to see his expression, or hear his response - my cheeks were too hot and it felt as though my stomach had just dropped through a black hole and was now drifting the cosmos. I practically leaped into the vehicle, going to pull my scarf up to cover my face only to realize that Uta now had it. And I really did like that scarf. _Fuck._

Noriko slipped easily into the driver's seat, glancing at me from the corner of her eye. "Who was that?" she asked, acting discrete as she put the car into gear. I ignored her, turning sideways in the seat to stare out the window. She shook her head and pulled away from the curb with a muttered, "You always find the weird ones."

I took her question and twisted it in my mind, flipping it over and under as I debated and pondered. I tried to find an answer that satisfied my fatal curiosity.

He was a distraction.

* * *

To: Aibu Toki [aibutoki7 at gmail . com]

From: Kamon Masako [kamon . masako at cox . net]

Subject: RE: RE: California

Toki,

Your attempt at humor once again fails to take. It is incredibly immature to speak of death in such a manner, let alone threaten to kill someone, no matter how 'clean' it is. Your interest in death is very concerning. It isn't healthy to focus on it with such relish, and we will discuss it more at your next session.

Sincerely,

Dr. Kamon

* * *

To: Kamon Masako [kamon . masako at cox . net]

From: Aibu Toki [aibutoki7 at gmail . com]

Subject: RE: RE: RE: California

Burned alive it is.

Sincerely,

Aibu Toki

* * *

I met the CCG's Jason unexpectedly and not quite how you would think.

He didn't weigh all that much, but when we collided it was with enough force to knock us both on our asses. Despite all future claims that it was purely an accident and in no way on purpose, I hadn't missed the flash of one of his many blades. "Ow," he sang.

I stared at him curiously, noting the fine white hair in a disarray, a couple of red bobby pins keeping haphazard strands of his hair away from his face. His suit jacket was oversized, matching the equally large white button up beneath it. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing lean arms, one with red stitches all the way up to his ring finger. I focused on his face. Large eyes popped out from pale skin, the red stitches in his lip and under his eye a bright contrast, matching the thread in his arm. He was feminine for sure; if I hadn't known any better I would have thought he was a girl at first.

But I knew better.

"That hurt!" he hummed, though I knew for a fact he hadn't felt a thing. "I'm all cut up! You need to help me now." He shoved his bleeding hand in my face, a line slanting across his palm. It bled red rapidly and dripped onto the cement beneath us. _He cut too deep_, I thought vacantly with a tilt of my head, still absorbing who exactly had just rammed into me on the sidewalk. Was this even real? Was I dreaming? I looked down and absently tugged on the skin of my stomach through my shirt. It seemed real enough.

"Toki!" Noriko jogged up to my side, kneeling beside me to look me over. "Are you alright?" She shot the boy a nasty glare.

He pushed his hand forward further, wagging the fingers. "I'm hurt," he repeated. "You have to help me. Please apologize right away."

"You ran into her - I saw. You're the one who owes the apology."

"You're rude. You should apologize too."

Noriko bristled. "You should show some respect for your elders," she scolded.

He stared at her for a moment before smiling brightly. "You are definitely my elder."

"You - !"

They went back and forth like that for a few seconds and I blew my bangs out of my face, scratching at my cheek aimlessly. His voice was masculine, but the way he spoke with almost feminine lilts and tones was a bit confusing. He wasn't using any honorifics either which was probably one of the reasons Noriko was so upset, besides the fact she was always spoiling for a fight.

She had dropped our shopping bags as she'd approached. I had wanted a new pair of boots, an(other) expensive distraction from real life.

It had been a week, seven days, since Kaneki had started working at Anteiku. It had been approximately seven days since Noriko started babysitting me, six if you don't count the day she had off. It had been a bit over four days since I had seen Hide last, though he had texted me the other day about visiting the shop together. It had between seven and eight days since I had heard from Kaneki. I had seen Uta yesterday. In about nine days I would be boarding a plane headed for California.

I had wanted to talk to Kaneki, not meet Suzuya of all people. I hadn't planned on meeting him at all to be honest. He was an adorable character and for sure one of my favorites. He was also unstable and unpredictable. He'd sucked a cop's eardrum out because he wouldn't _apologize_. Suzuya was up there with Uta on the badass scale.

The vague idea of what it must have felt like to be removed with something belonging in your skull made me shiver.

As interesting as it was to watch Noriko and the ghoul investigator duke it out I was sitting on my ass with blood dripping from Suzuya's hand all over my converse, not to mention the daunting fact he could snap at any second and do something terrible (though probably super cool). My legs ached as I got to my feet and brushed the dust off. I reached my hand out, gaining both of their attention, and waved it about.

"No," he said with a pout. "I'm hurt."

I shook my head and wagged my fingers again. "She wants you to grab her hand," Noriko stated with an air of authority, pushing herself up to her feet. She brushed at her pencil skirt and crossed her arms.

"Oh," he said, and put his hand in mine. It was his bloody hand, which didn't seem odd to him but felt warm and wet on my skin. I could feel the pulse of his blood between our palms as I pulled him up to his feet. I stared at my bloody hand when I let go, wondering how many insane fanatics would buy it if I bottled it up and sold it on ebay.

"Well, we need to be going now." Noriko smiled and began to pull me away, offering me her handkerchief. I took it and started to clean between my fingers.

Suzuya stepped in front of us. "But I'm hurt," he whined. "You have to help me now."

"And how are we suppose to do that?" Noriko was exasperated, hand going to her hip. "Go to the hospital or the ER."

"I don't have enough money to go to the hospital."

"Well, how much would you need then?" She was getting impatient, tapping a staccato rhythm on the concrete. All she wanted was to get him out of here.

The answer was prompt. "10,000 yen," he said cheerfully.

Noriko began an outraged rant, telling off the youth for being rude and deluded while I mentally converted. That was about… 85 dollars? A bit expensive, yeah. But I rather pay him than have him suck out my eardrum. I pulled out my phone to type him a message, holding it out for him to read. '_You should go to the ER, unless you can stitch it yourself.'_

It took a second for him to notice it, and when he did he came close enough to kiss the screen. Large eyes blinked at me. After a moment of tense contemplation he grinned and patted my head. "You're short, like me. We're the same height!"

I nodded, noting that he was right - we were at eye level with each other, though his hair added a centimeter or two.

God this experience was trippy. All we needed now was -

"Juuzou!"

\- Shinohara.

The teen stiffened and adopted something resembling a smile. He twirled about on his heels and waved at the oncoming CCG officer. "Mr. Shinohara," he laughed. "You found me!"

The investigator came to a stop and put his hands on his knees, taking in a few gusts of air. "I'm so terribly sorry, ladies," he started. "I hope he hasn't been causing any trouble." He shot a look at Suzuya who simply whistled, looking off in the opposite direction. I thought that he might have been pouting.

Shinohara was exactly how the manga depicted - formidable, a bit intimidating, but his face was kind. A large chin with a square jaw, hair closely cropped along the sides of his head. Goatee. A black suite with a red tie completed the image. He was tall; I craned my head back to observe him clearly, blowing my bangs from my face with a small breath.

Wow.

This really must be a dream.

My chaperone, upon seeing a figure resembling something of authority, straightened. "Why, actually -" she started, only to pause abruptly, leaning forward with narrowed eyes. "Shino... hara?" She inquired.

The man furrowed his brows. "Yes? Do I know you?"

I turned to Noriko with a curious frown. _Yes, you inconvenient stalker of mine, do you happen to know this hunk of a plot device?_

The woman suddenly smiled, white teeth bright in the sunlight as her hand shot out to shake. "Mr. Shinohara, it's Takahashi Noriko. We worked on the Red Scorpion case together."

They _what_?!

It was like a light bulb went off in the man's head for he eagerly took her hand with a large grin. "Noriko! Wow, it's been… what, two years? How have you been?"

She was practically glowing. "I've been good! How about yourself? How are the wife and kids?"

"Good, good! Still got the same boyfriend or have you gone and snagged another poor sap?"

"Oh, you flatter me. Still the same guy."

I looked back and forth between them as they chatted away like birds, chirping and tweeting as they gushed over each other. Unbelievable - this was unfucking believable.

My chaperone knew Shinohara. This really _was_ a dream.

No, I was fucking _tripping_.

Suzuya was looking more than a little irritated. He glanced periodically between his palm and Shinohara as if irked that the attention of his mentor had shifted. I mimicked his expression before deciding it probably looked a lot cuter on the other teen. I looked back to Noriko. She was just pleased as punch - You would have thought she had won the lottery meeting up with Shinohara again.

It was difficult to imagine the woman as an investigator, which apparently she had been.

God, this was insane!

I interrupted with a neatly typed message on my phone, handing the device to my chaperone with a suspicious glance towards the investigator. As much as I liked him I _was_ on Team Ghoul. Kind of.

"How rude of me!" Noriko chimed with a laugh. "This is my charge, Aibu Toki. I'm her bodyguard, of sorts."

I sniffed. Chaperone sounded much more degrading to me.

Shinohara seemed surprised by the information, eyebrows going up on his forehead. "Bodyguard? But I thought you…?"

The woman sobered, fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. "Oh, yeah, I… well, I decided to go through with the surgery." She eased the tension a bit with a careless laugh. "I'll never be at my prime again but this is much easier than being an investigator."

"The scars…?"

"Not as bad as they said they would be. They just ache a bit when it's cold."

The man smiled, as if relieved. "I'm glad," he murmured. Suddenly he brightened, his gaze unwavering as he focused on me. I suddenly felt very small. "Ah, forgive me! My name is Shinohara Yukinori, Special Class Investigator with the CCG. This here," he continued, with a gesture towards the disgruntled Suzuya, "Is Suzuya Juuzou, Rank Three Investigator." He gave a short bow and, with some encouraging, Suzuya dipped his head.

"Hello," he sang, but the voice was full of obvious disdain. He almost seemed bored now.

Noriko crossed her arms. "Oh really," she drawled. "What a tune you're singing now."

Shinohara frowned. "Suzuya, have you been causing trouble again?" He bowed and Noriko and I, together, fidgeted like we'd seen something weird. Which, seeing such a hulking man bow, was. Weird, that is. Combined with the fact that Noriko had been an investigator, had worked with Shinohara, and had apparently received life threatening injuries that ended her career suddenly being revealed like a bad soap opera, all I wanted was to sit down and put my head between my knees. "Please, allow me to get you guys some coffee as reparations for whatever he may have done."

"No, no, that isn't necessary," she panicked, waving her hands. Who was singing a different tune _now_? "Really, they just bumped into each other -"

"I insist."

And that was how I found myself squished into a small booth of a nearby cafe, our bags reclaimed and at our feet from where they had been dropped, watching Suzuya fiddle with his utensils instead of sipping the steaming drink in front of him while Noriko and Shinohara caught up.

It wasn't the _weirdest_ thing I'd seen or done since coming here, but it was pretty damn close.

I tuned the adults out in exchange for doodling in my sketchbook, attempting to catch the bags beneath Suzuya's eyes without making him look like the dead. His eyes were really round, the color changing between red and black, his skin so pale that sometimes his hair faded away into the flesh. It was interesting to attempt to draw and attempt I did - the results weren't quite what I wanted.

I was a bit preoccupied with the ex-investigator sitting beside me, happily chatting over her cup of coffee.

It wasn't even good coffee - Shinohara obviously hadn't been to Anteiku yet.

I tried to figure out how this new information would impact me. Given how surprised she was to see an old comrade, I was assuming that she didn't keep in touch with old contacts. Beneficial, since if she did suspect something she might not be able to tell anyone. The key was to keep her from being suspicious at all, however difficult that may be. I was careful to keep distant from the woman but she _was_ following me around every day - perhaps I let something slip on accident. Maybe she went through my things?

After about half an hour of conversing Noriko got a phone call from Akane, requesting my (and by proxy, her) presence.

"I'm so very sorry," she apologized, rising from the booth. I slowly began to rip out the page I had been working on. "Duty calls."

Shinohara smiled, also rising from his seat to shake her hand once again. "No problem - we'll have to catch up some other time."

I pulled off all the end bits until the edge was clean and slid the piece of paper across the table to Suzuya. He blinked at the page and picked it up with his fingertips, studying his likeness. The adults were still chattering away, unaware of our interaction, which was exactly how I liked it. I slid out of the booth and started towards the exit, too embarrassed to stick around and see how he reacted.

I told myself it was because, without prompting, Noriko wouldn't leave on her own.

Sure enough she went scuttling after me, and it was as we went outside into the sunlight, my chaperone whining in my ear about a sweet reunion, that I breathed out a sigh of relief. No one was dead. The plot probably hadn't changed. In fact, this might work to my advantage.

_Most importantly_, I mused, looking down at the bags in my hand, _I had gotten my new boots._

* * *

I swallowed a small shriek when the skin of my knuckles finally broke against the wood of the door. The fingers jerked sporadically before curling slightly, the position that hurt the least. He wouldn't open the door.

I _know_ that he's here.

He had to be.

I switched hands, knocking again before smacking it with my palm. The hour had passed from late to early and he still hadn't answered the door. I swallowed a sob, somehow managing to contain my anger and sadness to a small sniffle. One more smack before I slid down to the ground, silently pleading, praying, that he would open the door.

He didn't.

It had been eight days since Kaneki had joined at Anteiku. It had been over eight days since I had heard from Kaneki - heard his voice, heard his breathing. I would be gone in eight days.

Hide found me by some kind of magic. He crouched before me, a somber smile on his lips, his hands gentle on my arms as he coaxed me to my feet. He led me away and I found myself on the handlebars of his bike, wind rushing through my hair and pushing my tears down my cheeks and neck. He never said a word - he didn't have to. I could feel his hands on my hips to balance me, the occasional warmth of his breath against my back when he panted.

Hide took me home. His goodbye was a sweet peck on my cheek and a salute, his figure standing by as he waited for me to go into the house. I got upstairs and fell into my bed with no trouble.

The trouble came in the morning, when blue eyes studied my raw knuckles and took in the clothes from the day before. Elliott, Toki's father, shook his head as he left my room.

"Be ready to leave. We have seven days."

* * *

Hey guys!

Sorry about that wait. School has started up and it took a lot out of me to get ready for it. Sophomore year of college, anybody? I'm so ecstatic to see so many of you guys reviewing and favoriting, and please don't feel shy to send me a message! I love to hear from you guys, your thoughts, your predictions. I might not always respond because I'm a terrible human being but I squeal every time I see an email pop up on my screen.

School has started, so I can't guarantee fast updates. I'll do my best for you guys though. If not fast than I'll do my best to make them long - like this one. God, this beast is 16 full pages. That's insane! I really hope you guys like it. Tell me what parts were your favorite, what surprised you, what you would have done, etc. I wanna hear it all~

Oh! Also! I made a deviantart account so I could upload the drawings I do of Toki &amp; co. I only have two up right now, but you guys should go check it out! I'll put a link in my profile, but I'll put on here as well. Just take out the spaces.

phantumhive . deviantart . com

Hope you guys like the chapter!

Lotsa Love,

Calloniel


	11. interlude

**interlude:**

* * *

Sometimes he wishes he met her first.

She came out of nowhere like a catastrophe - there was no wail of an alarm to warn him of her coming. Just her invasion of his pores, filling his lungs with the scent of something unnamable but could only be described as _her_. She was an unavoidable accident that he couldn't tear his gaze away from.

She was terrifying.

Rize had approached with the soft sound of a page being turned, a careless smile. There was no need for concern when she was nothing but familiar and familiar was safe.

_She_ was the tragedy, the cataclysmic event that turned everything _wrong_.

The two were so similar yet so different and he wonders if they are the same person. He forgets sometimes that they aren't.

She was born from the carnage, the terrible remains of his humanity that Rize didn't have the chance to consume and he whispers apologies when she can't hear, mourning her birth but unable to return her to the earth. He doesn't think he can. He doesn't know how. She won't leave and he doesn't know if he wants her to.

He is but a shell of who he used to be and he can't give her whatever it is she wants.

But she has never wanted.

And he is terrified of the day she will.

Sometimes, in the early morning hours after the nightmares are through, he wishes she were there.

Sometimes he wishes they had never met.

Her hands are soft when she draws on his skin. Her eyes are kind when she stares, thinking he doesn't notice. Her breath is quiet but loud enough to remind him that he isn't alone. He is always alone though and she is a comfort that he uses and abuses, _it is better to hurt than to hurt others_, but he can't let her go.

He is innocent in his wants.

She lets him take everything.

He is terrified of the day when she will tell him 'no'.

* * *

i'm alive. this story isn't abandoned. times are just tough, and I promise the next chapter will be out before the new year.

i'll try and explain things a bit more then, but for now, here is a drabble from the short series I mentioned possibly posting. it's very vague and choppy and not entirely honest (because who in this series is) and completely unedited (sorry moka) but hopefully it'll tide you guys over for a bit until I can get the next chapter finished.

lotsa love,

calloniel


	12. Chapter 11

"_Well, I see you standing there like a rabid dog,_

_And you got those crying eyes,_

_Makes me wanna surrender and wrap you in my arms._"

_Coming of Age_ by FOSTER THE PEOPLE

* * *

It was in the bath that I realized I had become one of _those_ girls. The ones who fall to pieces because of a boy, the ones who mope about and angst because of _a boy_. The thought made my limbs tremble and I threw the soap across the bathroom. I sunk into the depths of the tub, blowing furious bubbles out of my nose.

That wasn't me.

That wasn't who I was.

And the idea that Kaneki, of all people, had reduced me to such a pathetic child made my blood boil.

I eventually had to resurface for air and I glowered at the tops of my knees where they peaked out of the water like little mountains. My knuckles ached from the heat of the water as it slowly softened the scarred and bruised flesh. Apparently, black and blue was a color that tended to linger on my skin - they weren't quite so sensitive as they had been, but they still hurt.

I knew, at the very bottom of my heart, that Kaneki had been there last night. I also knew that he had probably called Hide to save him from having to deal with the problem - the problem being that he wasn't talking to me.

Which was bullshit.

I sighed and slapped at my cheeks. I wasn't going to be that girl. I was going to get up, put on some clothes, and go out. It didn't matter that the whole idea _hurt_, that he was my sun, my purpose here, and _he wouldn't see me_ \- I slapped my cheeks again. No, he didn't want to see me? He just wanted to take a bite out of me and then leave me in the dust? Fuck him.

Noriko had left early for the day, perhaps to meet up with some old investigator buddies, perhaps assuming that since I hadn't bothered to get out of bed until noon that I wouldn't be going anywhere. Stupid of her. Akane was having a girls day and Elliott was still at work, perhaps not coming home until late, leaving me blissfully alone. I was technically still under house arrest, but if Elliott was going to drag my ass to the States regardless of what I did, I might as well do whatever the fuck I wanted.

_I can go to the park,_ I thought absently as I rose from the tub, splashing drops on the floor, grabbing a towel and rubbing at my hair. _I could visit a shopping center, treat myself. I could go get a bite to eat with Hide._

It was as I was dropping the towel to slip into lacey undergarments (everything Toki had was a matching set, something I'd never bothered with before) that the thought crossed my mind -

I could go visit Uta. Take him up on his offer of art lessons, though I still think it was a bogus excuse to trap me in his shop where he'd torture me for hours on end and feast on my insides. I justified the idea with a simple reminder that he had one of my favorite scarfs.

The idea of visiting Uta, the ghoul who had sat back and watched as Kaneki fell apart and was murdered at the hands of the CCG, filled me with some sort of sadistic satisfaction, a childish question for vengeance against the teen for abandoning me. I quelled the little voice in my head reminding me that I didn't need _anybody_, that I was being _ridiculously childish,_ that I wasn't actually an 18-some year old girl. The idea felt like some petty attempt at reclaiming a piece of myself, and I eagerly found myself dressing for the occasion.

Lace tights with high waisted shorts and a decorative crop top that had, evidently, been cropped by Toki herself. I slipped into a fur-lined army jacket, recently purchased (thanks, Dad) and comfy as all hell. Cute high heel ankle boots were adorable and bumped up my height at least four inches, and when I looked in the mirror I felt nothing but smug.

I didn't bother analysing the trainwreck that was my brain and crossed back to the bathroom.

I took a moment to put on some eyeliner and mascara, adding a bit of shadow to grey eyes before brushing my teeth. I played with my hair for a bit, leaving it up, leaving it down, before braiding a couple of sections and tying them all back with the rest of my hair into a messy bun. I didn't have to worry about the bite on my neck, my shirt and coat disguising the bruised, red flesh well enough. Satisfied, I started shoving my belongings into my messenger bag. My sketchbook felt heavy, stuffed full of references I had printed from the internet, pencils, pens, and erasers haphazardly thrown in alongside it. It was a heavy bag, irritatingly so, when way back when I would hardly walk around with anything other than a card and my phone.

It made walking to the train station interesting, a constant thump against my hip, and getting onto the train itself was difficult, having to think about not hitting anyone with it. But I found that my little sketch book was something like a security blanket. It wasn't hard to leave it behind, but I'd grown accustomed to the feeling of pages against my fingertips, and as I plopped down onto a free seat and the train pulled away from the station, I pulled out my sketchbook and pencil, flipping to a well worn page.

Art was a strange thing for me.

Part of me loved it - the motions were soothing, the wood in my hand almost familiar, and the fact I was actually kind of good at it made it something enjoyable. Creating something from nothing, a blank slate, was reassuring in a way. Calming. It was an avenue that I hadn't ever explored in my old life, preferring my math and my medicine, but now that I was trying it, it was as if I'd found a piece of myself I didn't know I was missing, an opportunity to expand my horizons and see what else I could do.

Or that was all just Toki influencing me. Who knows.

But another part of me _despised_ it, because it was _frustrating_. I was never happy with the finished product, the eyes too slanted or the lines too thick and the eraser didn't actually erase but _smudge_, and more often than not I glowered at the page as though my stare could light it on fire.

It never did, but I often hoped. My sketchbooks were filled with half finished drawings and doodles, characters occasionally taking up entire pages from conversations with Hide or Noriko. Even those weren't coherent, only half of the story, incomplete and abandoned.

I stared down hard at the page in my lap, barely making a mark as I traced out faces and shoulders.

I didn't want to abandon this one.

I couldn't.

The train rocked and swayed as we made a turn, and I braced myself against the wall, lifting my pencil from the page so as not to make any unwanted lines. An older woman sharing the bench with me watched studiously, wrinkled face curled in distaste. The middle-aged man and school boy standing in the aisle also glanced my way, but their gaze was a little more wanton.

It didn't bother me. I'd expected the looks when I chose my outfit, revealing long pale legs and a sliver of stomach. Toki looked model gorgeous and as a result, so did I.

It was an empowering feeling, and I was starting to understand why girls dressed like this. Hearing my heels click on the sidewalk was like my own personal accompaniment, the looks and glances firepower. I was a woman, a queen on a mission to conquer and nobody could stop me.

It was a feeling that I needed and relished after last night. If guilt tickled the back of my throat and anxiety plagued my chest - No, none of that, I scolded myself.

Once the train had stopped shaking I went back to work, only pausing to fiddle with the zipper of my jacket. It was only another stop until I reached the fourth district, and I had them all outlined carefully on the page. His eyes, her cheek bones, her hair - and it looked good. I was scared to keep going, to mess it up. I put it away, shoving my pencils into my bag and carefully sliding out of the seat, stepping around the grumbling elderly lady and stepping on the older man's foot as I exited the car. He called after me but I flipped him the finger, the harsh clip of heels giving me courage.

His eyes on my body were nauseating, and I didn't have any patience to deal with it.

The walk to HySy was familiar. Two men, smoking up their own weather system blatantly stared as I stalked past. A woman I passed by gave a wolf whistle, dressed all in leather with a seductive smile. A few students, a little too rough looking to be just that, scurried along wiping their noses. My own wrinkled in distaste for just a moment before I shoved it all out of my mind. I'd made this walk too many times, and I talked myself up, letting my heels power me up like solar.

They couldn't hurt me, not like -

There was a sign on the door, slightly crooked, spelling out 'closed' in bold letters, and not for the first time a loud, blaring alarm sounded in my head. It sounded suspiciously like a warning, telling me I was being an idiot, that this was stupid, I was being a child. So as I grabbed hold of the knocker to give a brief knock, I wasn't sure how I felt. When there was no response I tested the door, and as it swung open easily, with only the quietest of creaks, all I knew was that this was a bad idea. Each visit, each reckless interaction, was another pull of the trigger in a highstakes game of russian roulette.

When I had died, there were just rumors of a sequel, rumors and prayers. It would make sense - there were thousands of questions left unanswered, and a sequel would not only answer them all, but earn Ishida a shit ton of money. Also, knowing Ishida, any sequel would be ten times more confusing than the original and would probably raise just as many questions as it answered, if not more.

Even if there wasn't a sequel, the world was a whole lot bigger than Kaneki Ken and Anteiku.

And I didn't know that world at all.

Every move I made, involving myself with this place, and I'm not just talking about HySy and Uta, but even Toki's parents, the doctors, Noriko - every action was something I couldn't predict, couldn't calculate. And, as always, before seeing Uta, before seeing anyone from _Tokyo Ghoul_, these thoughts ran through my head a hundred miles an hour, a heavy weight squeezing the air out of my chest.

But they all vanished when I saw Kaneki Ken sitting there, on the same little stool I had sat on not even that long ago, hand lingering on the patch covering his eye and his mouth just slightly parted as wide, frightened eyes turned to me.

"Toki!" Touka was there too, moving around my peripheral vision, probably looking more than a little annoyed. But I couldn't look away from Kaneki, even as Uta, who had been by his side, slowly moved away. _He probably wants to laugh,_ I thought numbly. He's the kind of asshole who would find Kaneki's complete mental breakdown (which seemed to be what was happening as he squirmed and writhed on the chair, looking like he rather be anywhere else) funny.

I took a deep breath.

And turned around and walked right back out of the shop, letting the door slam shut behind me. I stared hard at the opposite wall of this little alley, covered in graffiti and who knew what else, and suddenly wanted to scream.

I was tempted, so, _so_ tempted, but I bit down on my hand instead, letting the bright burst of pain chip away at the burning ball of red seething inside my chest. It didn't really work, except for making my hands further bruised and useless. I sucked in another deep breath, counted to ten, and let it out slowly.

I wanted to hit him.

_I'm not going to hit him_, I told myself firmly. I'm not fucking twelve. I'm a mature, full grown adult God dammit and I _just_ lectured myself about this fucking bullshit. I slapped my cheeks, hissing hard as my hands protested and my cheeks stung. All earlier thoughts about the consequences of my actions had fled to be replaced by teen girl angst because all I could think was that Kaneki hadn't wanted to see me, he'd bit me and then hid away behind Anteiku's skirts, even though he was my best friend, and -

I turned around and opened the door. He was still on his stool, looking nothing less than bewildered and terrified.

His arms went up. "T-Toki," he stuttered. "Please, I - I -" I wrapped a hand into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him off, dragging him to the door. "Touka!" He looked frantically to the girl, who stood quietly beside the mask maker, her arms crossed. We shared a look and, with something resembling a smile, she gave an apathetic shrug.

"Not my problem."

Then we were outside and I pushed him to that opposite wall and stared.

"Toki, I - You - We shouldn't, I'm -" Kaneki went on like that for a few seconds, looking anywhere but at me, one hand against his chest and the other bracing himself against the wall. When I took a step forward he flinched.

I blinked. Was he… scared of me? Did he think I was going to hit him? Another step and another flinch, his eyes on the floor, looking left and right as if for an escape route.

Who had hit him?

I stood right in front of him and he fell silent, still not looking at me, still focused on something far, far off. "Toki -"

I wrapped my arms around his neck, thanking my heels for making the reach almost painfully easy. I pulled him close and buried my face into the crook of his shoulder. Kaneki stiffened, something like stone in my grasp, so I just held on and breathed.

All the anger, all the hurt knotted up in my chest simply unwound. Tears welled up in my eyes and I breathed him in.

_I'm disgusting,_ I thought. _I'm the worst._

_I love him,_ and that takes over my brain like a sigh of relief, like the first drop of rain after a drought. _I love him, I love him, I love him -_

I could only hold him tighter, my cheek against his, and I couldn't tell you how long I clung to him, one hand tangled up in the soft strands of his hair, the other fisted in his hoodie. All the hurts and aches seemed to vanish like I'd never been hurt in the first place. My knuckles didn't sting, my shoulder didn't throb. For the first time since he'd sunk his teeth into me, since he'd held my hand as I fell asleep in his bed, the knowledge that I wasn't 'Toki' wasn't suffocating me. The idea that I didn't belong here, that he didn't exists - it all drifted away like a bad dream. It was just me, and the sun.

I almost didn't notice when his arms slowly came around my waist, his form oh so carefully softening against mine. Heat spread where his hands touched and I just melted, leaning into him, taking and taking, basking in the attention, no matter how hesitant and minor it was.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice quiet, but it no longer trembled.

I'd missed his voice. God, I was so pathetic, the worst, but I missed him so much. This boy, whose life had been flipped upside down, turned inside out, and really just fucked seven ways to sunday, was asking me if I was okay. I wanted to laugh.

I wasn't okay, not by any means, but that was beside the point.

I didn't answer him in favor of holding him as close as possible, pressing my lips to his neck, closing my eyes as he shivered. I'm suddenly hyperaware of his breath against my ear, the thudding of his chest against mine, his hands keeping me as if he wanted me there. All the pieces of ourselves that touched from our thighs to our cheeks felt like light.

So it takes a minute to separate myself, to come back down, to draw up the willpower to let him go. My fingers don't want to cooperate. They run down his arms to his hands like they have minds of their own and I'm drawing away, scribbling, frantic and desperately trying to make him understand. That he's all I had, that I needed him, that without him I didn't know what I was supposed to do in the world. I drew and drew until his hands closed over my own, stopping the motions and popping me from my bubble with all the subtlety of a tank.

"Toki, I can't understand what you're saying." His face is completely crimson, the blush starting from his neck all the way to his ears. His eyes focused somewhere below my left ear. I just stare, all I can do is stare, and after a minute or two his blush begins to fade and he meets my eyes before looking down.

I still can't speak, content to stand there with my hands in his, all my grievances forgotten.

But Kaneki was fidgeting, fingers twitching and he pulled away, leaning back against the wall with his bangs over his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that."

My smile slowly fades, and although he pulled away he lets me take his hand back easily enough. '_Like what?_'

And I can feel my heart breaking as a tiny shimmer drifted down his cheek, his free hand going to scrub at his eyes. "Like… like I'm your everything."

I tilted my head and tried to smile for him. '_I don't know how else to look at you._'

A little sob escaped his throat and suddenly he's in my arms again. I welcome him back greedily, my hands finding their place like they were coming home. He's the one shaking this time, though, and it's easy to let my fingers drag along the nape of his neck, tugging gently on his hair, the other rubbing his back soothingly, tracing characters absently between the ridges of his spine.

I feel like I can think, like distance makes sense. It was true, the last he had seen of me was my back as I walked out his apartment door, bloody and hurt, Kaneki being the one that hurt me. It makes sense, and I think back to the chapters of chapters of the boy crying, of what I'd then called self-pity. I knew his fear of hurting others, _it's better to be hurt than to hurt others_, of being abandoned and left behind. No matter how many times I reassured him, I knew that it wouldn't make a difference. I wasn't enough to make a difference.

I spelled it out across his skin anyways, uncaring if he knew what I was saying or not. It made me feel better to say it out loud, in my own way.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

I reluctantly pulled back. '_What for? Ditching me?'_ My smile is, hopefully, playful, but his expression seems to just get sadder, lips quivering.

"I didn't want to hurt you again -"

I shook my head viciously.

Kaneki's frown was a little angrier now. "Yes, I did! You can't just ignore what I did!"

'_What did you do?'_

His free hand gripped my coat around my waist, the pressure of his fingers sending a jolt through me. "You know what I did," he whispered.

I wrote as I untangled his fingers only to snake them between my own, keeping our hands twined together. '_I have no idea what you're talking about.'_

"_Toki -_"

I shook my head again. '_Aren't you here for a reason? Is Uta making you a mask?'_

Subject thoroughly changed, Kaneki blinked, "What? Y-Yeah… How did you know?" he paused for a second, and before I could answer his hands were on my shoulders, shaking me slightly as he gasped. "What are you doing here, Toki? It's dangerous! There's ghouls, Uta -" Another pause. "W-wait, how do you know Uta?"

I sighed, held up one finger, and pulled out my phone. It was a lot faster to type out the message than to spell it out on his hand, and when I finished I handed it over to him and began to guide him back into the building.

'_Met him at Anteiku.'_ Kind of. '_I don't know if he knows that I know he's a ghoul, so that's fun. He wants to make me a mask too, apparently. I don't know why.'_

The maskmaker was fiddling with his sunglasses, seemingly debating whether or not it was worth it to put them on. Touka was where we had last seen her, mouth snapping shut, only to open it again to scoff.

"You finally done?"

I grinned and gave her a thumbs up.

Kaneki pushed my phone back into my hands, shaking his head. "You're crazy," he murmured, but I thought it sounded oddly fond. "Absolutely insane."

"That's one way of putting it," Touka added. She shot me a dark look and wagged her own cellphone. "I'm gonna call the manager. Try not to get yourself killed." She walked out the door, giving us a large berth as she did, and Kaneki looked terrified. His hand gripped mine in a vice grip, and even as I started to think that today was a bit full of hand holding, I really didn't mind. At all.

"She'll kill you," he said quietly. "Hide…"

I shrugged. '_Probably.' _So she hadn't told him what Yoshimura had said. Interesting.

"Nah," and Uta strolled up, his smile soft, gentle and less… I couldn't tell you. It was different from the smiles he gave me. "Toki seems to have made some friends in high places." He crossed his arms and leaned against one of the masks stands scattered throughout the room, tilting his head to the side.

Kaneki's grip got tighter. "That doesn't mean anything."

Uta blinked. "Do you think I want to hurt her?"

"Do you?" he shot back.

I watched, heading going back and forth like a tennis match, really tempted to interject, but that was a bit difficult when they wouldn't give me the time to spell a word out.

"I think of Toki as a friend." He put his chin in his hand and shot his beaming grin back my way. "She's my pupil."

I waved a hand at that, typed out my response, and shoved the phone into his face. '_I'm pretty sure we've already discussed that art can't be taught.'_

"No, you decided that." I scowled. "Didn't you bring your sketchbook?"

"You draw?" Kaneki asked, and I clutched my bag to my chest protectively, staring darkly at the floor.

Uta moved and ushered the boy back to the stool, measuring tape dangling from his tattooed fingerprints. "She's not half bad," he said quietly. I could almost hear the unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, unspoken, but oddly intended.

_You didn't know?_

Kaneki seemed to have recognized it as well, because he refused to meet my eyes, obediently taking his seat and letting Uta put his hands around his head. I pursed my lips and grabbed my sketchbook from my bag and flipped it open to a random page and shoved it into the boys hands, sending Uta a pointed look. His lips quirked and his face attempted to come across as innocent, but I knew better than that.

"Is that me?"

I looked back at Kaneki who was staring intently at the page I'd handed him, the pencil sketch almost a mirror image. I immediately grabbed it back and began to flip to another, different page, cheeks going crimson as Uta began to laugh.

I turned on my heel and stalked to a far corner of the room, shooting the pair looks as I did so, and sat back against a wall. That just wasn't cool. They couldn't gang up on me like that, the little human. So rude. But the heat in my cheeks didn't fade, as Uta continued with his measurements and questions, even as Touka came back into the room, snapping her phone shut and shooting me the evil eye.

It was impressive enough that I decided to try drawing it, and as the minutes passed the girl slowly filled the page.

I occasionally caught murmurs of their conversation, and flinched every time my name came up. All I could remember about this scene from the manga was Uta's ridiculous questions that had literally nothing to do with masks. He also imparted some kind words and advice, though who knew if I'd fucked that up. I'd begun to notice, as the days passed on, that I seemed to be fucking a lot of shit up. For example, I'm 99% sure that Kaneki was petrified of Uta upon their first meeting.

Here?

He sounded about ready to pick a fight. The mental image that threw up was adorable, Kaneki's arms pinwheeling, Uta easily holding him back with a hand. It was much more pleasant than the not so kid friendly version, white hair and bloody lips curled up around sharp teeth.

It's easy enough outside of it all to imagine such a battle royale, two badasses going up against each other, but as I rested my cheek against my knee, watching Uta chat calmly to Kaneki, movements slow and gentle while Kaneki slouched, figure submissive, I realized that I would hate it if the two fought. I'd despise it.

Perhaps it was because I knew who I would stand behind, without hesitation.

"Alright. I'm finished with your measurements." Uta's voice rang out across the shop, and I lifted my head up. "After I finish the mask, I'll send it to Anteiku."

"Finally," Touka muttered. "Thanks, Uta."

He turned with an easy grin. "You're welcome." His eyes went back to Kaneki, who fiddled with his eyepatch, distracted. "Come visit anytime."

"Sure," he agreed absently. "Thank you."

"Let's go." Touka was already at the door, hands in her pockets, legs shifting with her impatience. "The next train is in twenty minutes."

Kaneki looked to me, and I held my hands out, wagging the fingers. He obediently came over and grasped at my forearms and hauled me up, as if I was nothing. I practically jumped, and couldn't help my grin as Kaneki steadied me. '_Don't know your own strength, Superman?'_ I teased.

I don't think it's possible for me to ever get tired of how cute his blushing face was, and as the color filled his cheeks he dropped my hands like hot coal. "Something like that," he muttered. After clearing his throat, he said a little louder, "Will you come back with us?" He didn't look at Uta for me to know the subtle suggestion, and all things considered (like the fact he was inviting me to spend more time with him, rather than actively avoiding me, which I wanted to discourage) I nodded my head, all plans with the mask maker forgotten.

He seemed relieved, his shoulders dropping. I hadn't noticed that they were tense. He took my hand again, a bit more confident, and lead us towards the door. But I stopped him and jerked my thumb towards Uta, who already seemed to be lost in his own little world. '_I'm gonna say goodbye. Wait for me outside?'_

Kaneki glanced between us. "Okay," he said eventually. "Be careful."

'_Never.'_

"That's not at all reassuring."

'_It's not meant to be.'_ I pushed him out the door, shooing him away before turning back to Uta, who had his face practically buried in his own sketchbook. I tiptoed towards his work station, the click of my heels the only sound in the room other than the quiet scratch of pencil on paper. He still didn't look up, but as the distance between us closed, he spoke.

"That sketch of Kaneki was good." A red eye glittered behind the curtain of hair, and it suddenly hit me like a hammer that Uta wasn't wearing sunglasses.

For the first time since I had met him, I was seeing Uta without sunglasses. Kakugan on full display, red popping from the black of his eyes like embers. He shifted to face me full on, hands clasped between his legs, and I didn't care that I was blatantly staring. I drifted closer, hands twitching. It wasn't like with Kaneki, the soul shaking fear that had shot through me like lightening. I waited for that feeling to come, preparing for it, but it never came.

All I could think was that they were exactly what I had thought they would be.

I pulled out my phone. '_I really do like your eyes.'_

Uta's smile was gentle and sweet, and my stomach twisted. "Thank you." There were a million things left unsaid - like that I had seen something I probably wasn't supposed to see, that he didn't need to wear those stupid sunglasses because I knew what he was. That he was a ghoul, I was a human, and somehow, I was still alive. Had Touka talked to him while Kaneki and I were outside? What did he think? What was his plan? I didn't know, and I had no way of finding out other than moving forward and hoping there weren't any landmines under my feet.

Uta didn't take the conversation any further, tilted his sketchbook my way, showing off the beginnings of what would be Kaneki's mask. It was bare bones, just a concept, but I knew that bare smile, the black eyepatch. "What do you think?"

I hesitated, but gladly took the change in topic. '_It suits him. I'm excited to see it.'_

That sweet grin turned cheeky, nothing but mischief as he tilted his head to the side. "I'll get yours soon," he promised. His eyes lingered on me, gradually drifting down my chest, my legs to my boots, before lazily travelling back up to my eyes. I couldn't help but flush at the obvious look, hands tightening on the strap of my bag and phone respectively. We stood there for a minute, simply watching each other.

Then he waved a hand, turning back to his station. "They're waiting for you."

I stepped forward and gently touched his shoulder, feeling brave. '_You still have my scarf,'_ I reminded him. There were a couple meanings that Uta could glean from that, and I turned away and stalked towards the door.

He caught me as my hand touched the handle.

I spun around, a heart attack in my chest when I noticed he was _right there_, pressing myself flush against the door. It wasn't anything hot or romantic. He didn't box me in or trap me, letting me easily slip from his grasp as I turned, but he was _too close_. Hardly an inch away, and I thought that if I just sucked in a big breath my chest would brush his.

His hand came up, thumb rubbing just under my eye. I shivered, not entirely out of fear, unable to look away from the gleaming red above me, ominous and shrouded. It was almost a relief when he pulled away. A smile crept across his lips with all the urgency of a sloth.

"Eyelash," he explained, and _god_ I'd never wanted to punch someone more. I was almost positive that my face could compete with a tomato, and perhaps he could tell because Uta needed little prompting to evacuate from my personal bubble. Was he flirting with me? I could never tell with him, not at Anteiku, not in the park, and most definitely not here. I mean, you didn't just go up and touch someone, no way, but Uta just -

He put his lips together and blew gently on his finger, eyes following something I couldn't see. By the time I looked back to his face his smile was all sweet. "Come again, okay?"

I escaped through the door before I (or he) could do something stupid (dangerous).

Kaneki and Touka were waiting, the latter rolling her eyes as I trotted over to them. "Took you long enough," she admonished. "Let's go." She took off without a backwards glance, and after giving Kaneki a grin I started to go after her. I was just going to ignore most of what happened today, shove Uta completely out of my head. He was a tangled mystery that required a few thousand years to unwind, and I was just going to ignore it. Such a healthy solution to my problems. A hand on my sleeve dragged me to a halt.

Seriously, what was it with people grabbing me today? The thought crossed my mind, but I honestly couldn't mind, not when it was Kaneki. I looked back at him, his brow furrowed, breathing deeply through his nose. It was almost thoughtless, the way he came up close, lips almost brushing my cheek.

Everything in my brain died.

I was still in the process of rebooting as Kaneki stepped back, frowning. Then, as if nothing had just happened, he started walking, pulling me along by the sleeve of my coat. There was nothing else to do but stumble after on autopilot, brain still reeling. When we caught up to Touka, they had some sort of conversation about the purpose of the mask, the CCG, and a few pointed quips directed my way, but I could barely gather the thought to remember to breathe, let alone respond.

What?

I didn't even realize that we'd gotten on the train, let alone off of it, until Kaneki began to stutter out my name.

My eyes found his and he stopped. His confidence seemed to grow, because what he said next was in a tone that I didn't really recognize.

"Will you stay with me?"

What?

He didn't elaborate, didn't revert back to his stuttering and nervous words, and the only clue that he was at all anxious about his question was the tapping of his fingers against his pants. I stared, blinking, and dammit, I was going to have to restart my brain all over again because in the silence Kaneki stepped way closer than I was prepared for. His hand rose towards my face and dropped just as quickly.

"You smell like him."

_What?_

I glanced at my phone, trying to take in the time - but in all honesty, the time didn't matter, and I switched the thing off and shoved it as deep into my bag as I could get it. The idea was too tempting, and whatever motive Kaneki had for inviting me didn't even register. I just took his hand and let him lead the way.

There was a reason that the earth revolved around the sun, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why.

All I could do was enjoy the warmth.

* * *

Iwa had simple desires. She had many of them, don't be mistaken, but in their base form, they were simple.

A good fuck and a nice meal were at the top of the list, the latter of the two finally coming back out of hiding, trailing behind her group like a little lamb as they meandered towards the train station. Iwa's grin was nothing short of vicious as she slithers down the alley wall like a shadow, boots clicking harshly against the sidewalk as she landed. The saunter of her hips was second nature, an unconscious thought that drags all sorts of attention to her body.

Iwa didn't mind. She simply basked in the attention. She was rather accurately named, after all.

She trailed a ways behind the girl with the auburn hair and striking grey eyes, uncaring for her companions. They held no interest for her - no ghouls did. Perhaps Daiki would care, had he been there to discourage her rather nasty habit, but he wasn't. Even if he was, it wasn't as if he had any real influence over her actions.

She sternly ignored the part of her that protested that thought.

"Ah, I thought I heard the skittering of some black widow."

Iwa freezed.

Another figure slipped from the dark alongside her, shoulders hunched in his thin cardigan. His breath escaped his lips like smoke, and despite the light lilt of his voice, his expression held no such intentions. Iwa managed a nasty grin of her own and sneers at him, a well worn mask to disguise her dislike. Her fear.

"Look who crawled out of the dirt," she threw back. "Tired of playing human?"

"You know that I've done nothing of the sort. And we both know that you aren't welcome here."

It was easy to ignore the chill crawling up her spine. "This district doesn't belong to you anymore."

"Oh really?" The man ran a hand through his hair and his eyes found _her_ target, _her_ play thing, and Iwa couldn't help but scowl.

"She's mine," she snapped. "Go find your own."

It only took a second for his hand to wrap itself around her throat like a snake. Her back hit the wall and she didn't claw at the vice grip on her neck. It was only for show, a weak attempt to retain some sort of control. Kakugan flared to life, glowing crimson in the dim streetlights, and the snarl just dying to escape was replaced by a smirk. "Touch a nerve?" she rasped.

He tilted his head to the side, as if holding her there was no effort at all. "Go back to your rich men," was all he said. "I won't tell you twice."

And then he released her, and she landed on her feet with only a cough. Her kagune was just itching to come out, just dying to play a game, to get in the last word - a dangerous thing in these parts, with this man.

Nobody could argue that Iwa wasn't a patient woman. Good things came to those who waited, and she was willing to wait for those good things. So she walked away. But when she looked over her shoulder and saw him staring after that little morsel, she couldn't help leaving a warning behind of her own.

"I'd get her fast," and she was practically purring, this little snippet of information better than anything else the world could give her. Something to use, to hold over him. Something _fun_. "Or someone else will."

The Black Widow slipped away, back into the shadows.

The man didn't bother watching Iwa go, his eyes on something far more important. And when the girl finally drifted out of his sight, he turned on his heel with a whistle on his lips, letting his feet carry him back into the dark.

* * *

Okay guys, here we go - the chapter that _murdered me_. Moka, my beta, pen name now Smiling Seshat, gave it a quick edit and I'm literally posting it as she's finishing haha. Give her a big round of applause for dealing with my crazy ass! _(Smiling Seshat's AN: *gives heartfelt applause to Cally for her hard work*) _Real life is tough, I'm awful, and I'll try to post a life update of sorts on my profile, if you actually care to hear about it. Regardless, there were some questions I wanted to bring up/reviews that I wanted to comment on real quick!

_Selective Mutism_; a billion years ago, RandomPotato commented on selective mutism and how I didn't quite describe it correctly, and you're right! I know that it's anxiety based, and I guess I might not have written my description as well as I should have, and when I'm a little less dead I'll go back and fix it up! While I'm on the subject though, Toki has _very mild_ selective mutism. Toki can speak, though it's mostly a matter of choice in the beginning, and since then has developed into an anxiety, although she hasn't quite realized that yet (spoilers, whoops).

_Toki's Character_; there are parts of Toki I really resonate with, and parts that I don't, which is probably why she sometimes seems inconsistent, and I'm super sorry for that! She's kind of a jerk, manipulative and selfish, traits that I guess are considered 'villainous' and you don't really see them often in OC stories. But I'm trying to do a really vibrant, realistic OC, who's in a world she doesn't know and is clinging to the one thing in it she recognizes. She's growing and changing and not necessarily for the better, and I hope you guys are okay with this sort of development! It might take a while, so deal with an awful OC for a bit as I experiment.

And in relation to that...

_Bad decisions_; Toki makes a hella lot of them, as Tyrhineld pointed out! You are 10/10 totally right! But to err is human, and I like to think that anyone in Toki's situation could be swept up in everything going on. She doesn't want to die, definitely, but she's also completely wrapped around Kaneki's little finger and, with her knowledge, probably something like a god complex. I'm also inconsistent as fuck and mess up alot, so I'm sorry that this put you off the story! For everyone else, I hope this clears things up slightly (probably doesn't).

I think that's it for comments… feel free to bring up questions, concerns, and comments guys! Unless it spoils the future plot, I really don't mind discussing things, and often I won't notice an error until someone points it out! It's also awesome because it shows ya'll are really paying attention and golly gee it makes me all a flustered ^^ I'm especially nervous since it's been so long since I've written for Ode, I don't know if it flows or works at all...

Also! If you guys have read this huge ass author's note, I would love, love, love if you guys could suggest songs to me that make you think of Toki. It can be a pairing sort of song, like Toki/Kaneki, Toki/Uta, Toki/Suzuya (my guilty pleasure okay), or it could just be about Toki, whatever! I have a scene in my head I'd love to come into play and some music suggestions would be awesome c:

Thank you so much for sticking with me! If we're super lucky, I'll send another chapter your way before the new year! This is for all of you guys who are still hanging around, I hope it meets your expectations.

Lotsa love,

Calloniel


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